


The Center Cannot Hold

by itchyfingers



Series: Londinium Productions [1]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Marriage, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 72,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itchyfingers/pseuds/itchyfingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Hiddleston's marriage is falling apart. Can he and his wife Anna figure out a way to put it back together again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sometimes We Hurt The Ones We Love

“What?”

The word hung in the air between them, a crystallized ornament of disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Anna, but I don’t want to try anymore.” He stared at his feet, unable to meet the pain in her eyes.

She had been doing the dishes after dinner when Tom had appeared guiltily in the doorway. He had leaned his long frame against the doorway and said, “I don’t think we should try to get pregnant again.” She had almost dropped the wine glass she had been drying.

She carefully placed the glass on the counter and turned to face him. “I don’t understand! You were so happy when we found out I was pregnant, and then when I miscarried…” Waking to a sheet stained red, cramped tight in a ball, the taste of her tears a steady diet for days. “You were so excited before. You kept talking about if it would have your curls or my eyes. You read Shakespeare to my belly every night.”

“I know, but you have to understand. Guinea changed me. I saw so many children who didn’t have anything, dying from lack of food, lack of water.” His voice was earnest, but his eyes were haunted with images of starving children, visible rib cages, and unmoving babies.

“Our baby wouldn’t be like that.” Her voice held a note of pleading in it.

“I know, but I think it would be so much better if we adopted some of those babies instead,” he responded quietly.

“I don’t want to adopt a baby. I want your baby. I want our baby!”

“I can’t give you that. Not anymore,” he answered regretfully.

“You can, you just won’t.” She turned her back to him, bitterness as evident in her stance as her voice.

“I can’t just forget what I saw there, what I had experienced.” He sighed with exasperation. “Maybe if you had come with me…” he pushed off the door frame and walked towards her.

She whirled towards him. “Are we back to this again? I can’t just take off whenever you want me to. I have a job. A _real_ job. People depend on me!

His spine stiffened, and he stopped in the middle of the kitchen, his legs spread in a wide stance like he was expecting to be attacked. “Are you saying what I do isn’t a real job? I work longer hours than you do almost every day.”

“Dressing up in costumes and pretending to be from another world. Such a hard life you have. If you stopped working, what would we have? One less pretentious art house film that nobody wants to watch. If I stop working, people die.”  
  
He rolled his eyes at her grandiosity. “Of course, because there isn’t another pediatric surgeon in all of England! Don’t you realize what you could have done in Guinea? How valuable your skills would have been?”

She snorted. “Those children don’t need me. They need food. They need water. They need vaccines. They need another dilettante celebrity to post heartbreaking pictures to guilt the rest of the world into donating money so a bunch of bureaucrats can keep their job.”

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m a dilettante?” He actually looked hurt. She would have expected offended, but lately she didn’t think she had the power to hurt him anymore.

Frustration boiled up in her. “You’ve never been interested in politics. Ever! You never advocate for anything controversial. You honestly think that those mothers would be happy giving up their children to you? They don’t need the white man to come in and take their children, and if you had any sort of experience in the real world, rather than your rarefied Etonian egotism that makes you think you are God’s gift to the world, you would understand how incredibly stupid it is to think that you can just step in like this and take their children as a solution to what you saw. African misery isn’t a tourist attraction, and their babies are not souvenirs!”

He stepped back, her words having the force of a physical blow.

“Oh yes, because we all know that you growing up in a middle class family and having signed petitions for Amnesty International gives you the moral high ground here.” Sarcasm dripped from his award-winning tongue. She hated how susceptible she was to the tone of his voice.

“I spent every summer for a decade volunteering for Doctors Without Borders. Do you remember that? Do you remember me scheduling my volunteer trips around your shooting schedules so that I would be here when you came home? Do you? I’ve been to Guinea, Tom, if you would pull your head out of your arse long enough to remember that I have a life while you’re on set. I’m the one who got arrested protesting our involvement in Iraq, I’m the one who spends those pro-bono shifts at the neighborhood clinics seeing immigrant children who don’t have health care. So excuse me if I don’t give your “look at me and how I am an example of charity and liberal guilt” routine a lot of weight, because I have been living that life since before you ever met me and it has never mattered to you before because there wasn’t a photo-op attached.” Her voice dripped venom, and she clenched the counter with both hands to keep herself from throwing something at him.

“So I’m just a media whore, is that you’re saying? That I don’t care what I do as long it gets my face out there? That I’ll just shill for anyone with the cash to put down?” She could tell he was furious. His voice always went quiet when he was angry, and the low tone combined with the perfectly clipped enunciation spoke louder than any rock concert of how incensed he was by her attack.

“You have this perfectly cultivated air of genteel perfection combined with just enough God of Evil to make the schoolgirls cream themselves over your perfect eyes and your beautiful hair, but I’m done with you spending more time thinking about how to get your fans to fall in love with you than your wife!” She tried to match his tone, to keep her voice low and steady, but by the end she knew she had lost control, her voice cracking over the words “your wife.”

“So this is all my fault? Do you think I like knowing that you _never_ pick me over your damn job? That you think that you are so much better than any other surgeon that you can’t possibly let anyone cover for your shifts at the hospital? It’s probably for the best that you miscarried; you never would have been able to care for my child anyway because you would be off saving someone else’s!”

The blood drained from her face. His words broke her heart, making her feel like she was losing the baby all over again. He realized the magnitude of what he had said as tears filled her eyes. He felt like he had been stabbed; like he had stabbed himself.

“Get out.” Her voice was soft.

“Oh, god, Anna, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He tried to take her in his arms but she pushed him away.

“Get. Out.” The words fought their way through gritted teeth as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Please, love, please, forgive me, I’m so sorry.” He stood helplessly in front of her, his body slumping repentantly.

She walked past him, making sure to stay out of his reach.

She stopped in the doorway. Without looking at him, she quietly said. “You can come back and get some clothes tomorrow while I’m at work. I don’t want you here when I get home. And I don’t want to see you again.”

He heard her feet on the stairs, and then their bedroom door closing and locking. He heard her start sobbing, a sound he hadn’t heard since the doctor had confirmed the loss of their baby at 12 weeks.

He slumped to the floor as his sobs echoed hers.


	2. Things Fall Apart

Anna woke alone in the morning. Her head was killing her from all the crying she had done the night before. She got in the shower, turning the temperature of the water up until it was almost scalding, wishing that it could disinfect her heart like surgical equipment. She scrubbed at her skin, wanting to get rid of all the memories of Tom’s touch, the way he would trail his fingers lazily across her body, driving her slowly to a crescendo of delight. When her skin was red and raw and the hot water had given out, she wrapped a towel around herself and walked over to the closet. She opened a drawer and picked out her most pedestrian panties and a boring beige bra. She slipped on a pair of jeans, and then ran her hand across the rack of shirts until she found one that didn’t have a memory of Tom attached to it.

She went back in the bathroom and picked up the blow-dryer. The light in the room glinted off her wedding band. She kept staring at it as she dried her hair. It has been almost four years since they had gotten married. It had been an absolutely perfect day. She had been so happy. _They_ had been so happy. When had that stopped?

Anna tried to remember the last time she and Tom had done something together that wasn’t connected to one of their jobs. She had gone with him to premieres, he had gone to a charity ball for the hospital, but it had to have been at least a year since they had done anything that required planning for just the two of them. At some point, without her noticing, their marriage had become an automaton; it kept functioning, but there was no heart left.

She almost never wore her engagement ring, the stones in it made it impractical when she was constantly in surgery; but she had never removed the platinum band that Tom had slipped on her finger that day. She worried the band with her thumb, loathe to remove it, to admit the finality of the situation she had helped create. She couldn’t make herself take it off yet. She headed out the door, determined to be gone before Tom, an inveterate morning-person, would arrive. She’d just grab some breakfast at the hospital.

***

Her day had been long and busy. She was sitting at the desk in her office, finalizing notes in her patients’ charts when the phone on her desk rang. She reached over and hit the speakerphone button. “This is Doctor Thompson.”

“Anna, this is Luke. I’m sorry for disturbing you at work. Do you have any idea where Tom is? He hasn’t shown up for any of his meetings today, and he isn’t answering his mobile.” Anna could almost taste the stress in Luke’s voice.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“When you see him tonight, will you make him call me? I rescheduled the meeting with the producers for tomorrow, but if he doesn’t show up, he’s going to lose this role.”

Anna didn’t even know what role Luke was talking about. When had she stopped paying attention to her husband’s career? For so many years, they had celebrated each achievement. Pride kept her from asking Luke what role he was talking about, but her heart hurt with a new pain at this added evidence of her neglect of her husband.

“I’m not going to see him tonight.” She kept her voice perfectly neutral.

“Anna, what’s going on? You sound like Kristen Stewart.”

A sharp pang of pain hit her, remembering the night the three of them had gotten drunk and tried to watch Twilight on pay-per-view in a hotel room on some publicity tour. Luke had been in her life almost as long as Tom had, it seemed. She was going to lose this friendship as well, she realized.

“I’m only telling you this because you’re going to need to get out ahead of it.” She sighed. “Tom and I fought last night. I kicked him out.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. “You’re kidding right? You two have always been so happy together!”

“We haven’t been happy in a long time. We’ve both just been so busy we haven’t had time to fight.” The resignation hung heavy in her voice.

“Well, I’m not making a statement to the press or anything.”

“I know. But he was pretty broken up when I kicked him out. I said some truly horrible things. I don’t know where he’s been since. Maybe call Ben. He might have crashed over there if he’s in town.”

“Okay, I will. Is there anything you need?”

“The last six years of my life back?” the laughter in her voice was bitter as bile.

“Oh, sweetie, we’re going to get through this.”

“I don’t think so. Not this time. Sometimes things fall apart.”

“I have to go, but if there’s anything I can do for you, you call me, okay?”

“Goodbye, Luke.” She hung up the phone.


	3. A New Hope

Anna put the key in the lock, wanting nothing more than a glass of wine and a good book to take her mind off of her collapsing marriage. She opened the door, and dropped her workbag on the floor of the foyer. She shut the door behind her, kicking off her shoes as she flipped the deadbolt home. She started to walk to the kitchen, but her foot hit something soft and furry on the floor, something that had not been there when she had left this morning. She jumped back, her hand frantically grabbing for the light switch.

There in the middle of the entryway was a stuffed dragon. It was purple, and its wings shimmered; she had never seen it before in her life. She stepped forward and bent down to pick it up. It was incredibly soft. As she turned it over in her hands, delighting in the exquisite embroidered details, she wondered where it had come from. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a patch of bright color where there shouldn’t be any. She turned, and sitting on the first step of the staircase was a yellow rubber ducky. As she walked towards it she realized that there was something sitting on each step of the staircase. She slowly walked up the stairs, past a stack of board books, a pair of tiny red Converse shoes, a rattle, a stack of flannel receiving blankets in stripes and polka dots, a nightlight in the shape of a monkey, a big hardback of Shakespeare for Children, a bottle of baby shampoo, an infant first aid kit, a box of nappies, an infant carrier, tiny little clothes, and sitting on the top step was a pregnancy test.

Tears filled her eyes as she bent down and picked up the box. She stood staring at the box for several seconds, trying to decide how much of a difference it made that he had changed his mind about a baby. As she was standing there, contemplating this peace offering, she noticed the door to the guest bedroom was standing open, which was odd. She always kept it closed because that was where she stashed stuff that she didn’t know where to put. She walked the few steps down the hall and stopped in her tracks when she got to the open door.

Tom was asleep in a big overstuffed chair, his long legs stretched out on an ottoman. The junk she had stored in this room was gone. So was the guest bed. In its place was a beautiful white crib. Over it hung a mobile of origami cranes in all the shades of the rainbow. A brightly striped rug was on the floor. Along one wall was a long low set of cubbies. Baskets filled some of the niches, and others held more baby books and toys. The top was decked out as a changing station. A dresser stood between the two windows, with a lamp on top, and some more toys. She stepped into the room and realized that he had painted the room a sunny yellow. Some of the paint was splattered across the old t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.

On the wall above the crib, in his beautiful, almost calligraphic script, he had painted the words, “So come with me where dreams are born and time is never planned. Just think of happy things and your heart will have wings in Never Never Land.” She felt a tear spill down her cheek. They had met at a Halloween party; she had been dressed as Tinkerbell and he had been there with his friends. They had raided a theater’s costume department and were there as Captain Hook, Smee, Peter Pan, and Tick-Tock the Crocodile. They had descended upon her _en masse_ when she entered and insisted that she spend the rest of the evening with them. Tom, in his Captain Hook costume, had flirted shamelessly with her all evening. She had ended up taking him back to her flat for a night of drunken sex and what they both had thought would be a one-night stand had ended up as so much more. Peter Pan had always been her favorite story growing up and she had joked with Tom that Tinkerbell was her fairy godmother for bringing the two of them together. As she saw the tiny pixie that he had painted alongside the quote, she realized that Tinkerbell was now looking over their possible child’s sleeping place.

She was startled out of her reverie by the sound of her mobile ringing. She placed the dragon in the crib and turned to look at Tom while she fished the device out of her pocket. He had been woken by the sound, and was looking at her, a mix of regret, hope, love, and fear warring on his face. She saw who was calling and put it on speakerphone.

“Hi, Ben.”

“Anna, what’s going on? Luke called me looking for Tom. He said Tom was missing.”

Her eyes caught and held Tom’s for a moment before she answered.

“Everything’s fine. I just got home and Tom’s here. The battery on his phone died and he just messed up his schedule.”

She could see some of the tension melt out of Tom’s shoulders as she spoke. Their eyes stayed fixed on each other.

“Are you sure? Luke seemed pretty freaked out.”

“Well, our silly boy missed a meeting with some producers, so Luke was pretty upset, but it’s been rescheduled for tomorrow. I’ll have him call Luke right now.”

“Okay, good.”

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this. Are you back in town yet to start shooting season three?”

“Not yet. Beginning of March.”

“Okay, when you get back, we should all have dinner. You and Tom can compare villain laughs.”

His chuckle was deep and inviting. “It sounds like a plan.”

They said their goodbyes, and Anna touched the end call button on the phone’s screen.

“You need to call Luke.” Her voice was quiet, the false joviality it had possessed while she had talked to Ben disappearing like a mirage.

“Luke can wait. We need to talk.”

“Call Luke first. He’s freaking out, and I don’t think we’re going to have a short conversation.”

He sighed and nodded. He stood and retrieved his mobile from on top of the dresser and pressed the button to call his assistant. Anna could hear Luke’s answering “Where the hell have you been?” even without the phone being on speaker. Tom stepped out in the hall way.

She sat down in the chair that Tom had vacated, surprised to find out that it rocked, and listened to Tom’s end of the conversation.

“I know, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I don’t know if I can do that. I’m going to need to take some time off…I don’t know how much time…Well, Luke, it won’t matter if I get that role if I lose Anna! … Yes, I’m at home…yeah, she did, and I deserved it…Luke…Luke! I’ll call you in the morning, okay?...I don’t know…I don’t know…Luke, I have to go.

He walked back into the room as he turned off his mobile. The sheepish look on his face made him appear a decade younger. She shoved the ottoman towards him with one foot, and curled her legs under her in the chair. He came and sat down facing her.

“You realize this,” she was still holding the pregnancy test, and used it to wave around the room to include everything he had done, “doesn’t just magically fix everything, right?” Her voice was quiet; she was overwhelmed with everything he had done that day.

“I know, but I have to start somewhere.” He reached out and tentatively touched her knee. When she didn’t pull away, he let his long fingers splay across her leg, relieved that she was allowing the contact. “I would give anything to take back what I said yesterday. I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was see the look on your face when I broke your heart. And I kept thinking about how much you sacrifice to take care of those who need it, the Doctors Without Borders and the pro bono care and I realized that at your core, you are a mother. You give up your own comfort to take care of people. You take care of your patients. You take care of people on different continents. You take care of me. And I can’t think of anyone who I would rather have take care of my child. _Our_ child.” His normally perfect baritone was choked with tears. Anna placed one of her hands softly over his.

“I swear to you Anna, this is just a down payment on what I will do to earn your forgiveness. Please, say you’ll give me this chance?”

“And what am I going to do to earn your forgiveness? I said some truly horrible things to you last night.”

“Ah, darling,” he started to respond, and Anna winced.

“What is it?” he asked.

She looked down at her lap, and murmured, “I hate it when you call me darling.”

“What? You used to love it. In fact, I remember one particularly memorable experience where that was all I said to you for two hours.”

Anna smiled, a flush crossing her cheeks as the sensuous tone in his voice evoked a sliver of what she had felt that morning.

Her smiled faded as she said, “And then I started hearing you call every one of your fans the same thing.”

“Ahh.” He looked vaguely guilty.

“I haven’t dealt well with you becoming famous. You may say that I’m good about sacrificing myself, but I’m truly a selfish person at heart. _I want my Thomas back_. I miss having you to myself for any meaningful period of time.” She could feel the words start tumbling out of her mouth like water breaching a dam. “I miss you and I miss _us_ and I have been blaming you for all of it, but you’re right, I’ve put my job first too, and the more famous you got, the more you were gone, and the more I felt you didn’t need me, so I decided I didn’t need you either, and for the last six months it’s been like we’ve been roommates rather than spouses; like we just didn’t have enough time to be in love any more. And it just kept spiraling out of control and I don’t know how to fix it and I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”

He slid forward off the ottoman, landing on his knees in front of her. He gently tugged her forward, unfolding her legs and placing one on either side of him. Then, watching her face for any sign of distress, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him until he folded around body, enveloping her in his embrace.

Watching how tentative he was about touching her was agony. His beautiful eyes were locked on her face; his eyebrows rose asking silent permission to touch her. The impulsive, affectionate, playful man she knew so well was completely absent. It was as if someone was rubbing salt in the open wound of her heart to see the damage she had inflicted on him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her face against her arm as silent sobs started to shake her frame.

His arms tightened around her and he started to soothingly stroke her back with one hand. He turned his head so he could kiss her temple. He murmured quietly, “I love you, Anna. I’m so sorry that I haven’t always lived that love, that I ever gave you cause to doubt that you are the most important person in the world to me. Acting is what I do for a living, but you are my life, and losing you would destroy me. You must believe what I say to be true.”

When he didn’t hear a response, he pulled back slightly so he could see her face. He gently put a hand under her chin, the backs of his fingers brushing against the delicate flesh to tilt her face towards him. Her face was flushed from crying, and her eyes were red, but at least she met his gaze.

“Do you believe me when I say that I love you?”

She nodded.

“And do you still love me?”

She nodded again. “Yes, Thomas, I’ve never stopped loving you. I just don’t know if love is enough to fix this.”

The light in his eyes started to come back when he heard that she still loved him. “You’re right, dearest, love won’t be enough. But it’s a place for us to start.”


	4. How Do We Fix This?

They had agreed to take a break from serious conversation and eat some dinner. Neither one of them had eaten much that day, and with the immediate crisis at least somewhat resolved, they both realized they were hungry. After they finished eating, Anna took her wine glass and the partially emptied bottle over into the living room and sat on the sofa. Tom joined her, sitting close to her but not touching her. They both were turned inward facing each other, but neither one really wanted to start talking about their problems. Anna finally broke the silence and said, “What is the role that Luke was talking about?”

He shook his head. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I realized today when I was talking to Luke that for the first time I could remember, I didn’t know what projects you were considering. I need to be a part of your life, not try and pull you away from it, or resent you for leaving me to go do it.

He smiled and looked down. “It’s Richard the Third.”

Her jaw dropped a little bit and she put her glass down on the coffee table. “Like, Shakespeare Richard the Third?”

He looked up at her and nodded. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to take it. I’m not taking on any more projects for a while. We need some time together.”

“Is this a stage production or a movie?”

“Stage.” He sounded like he was holding something back.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she prodded.

He didn’t respond.

She wiggled her fingers at him. “Don’t make me tickle you.”

His grinned at her. “The Royal Shakespeare Company is going to do a production of Richard III as part of the reinterment observances. At the Globe Theater.”

“A full run?”

“Sixteen weeks.”

“And they want you to be Richard the III?”

He nodded.

She picked up her mobile from off the coffee table and quickly tapped the number three. Tom tried to grab it from her as he realized who she was calling, but she twisted away from him.

“Anna, what is going on over there?” Luke sounded more frustrated than angry.

“What time is Tom supposed to meet with the producers tomorrow?”

“Well, the meeting is at ten, but he told me to cancel it.”

“He’ll be there, I’ll make sure of it.”

“God, thank you, Anna.” She had never heard Luke sound so relieved.

“Cancel anything he has for the rest of the day though.”

“Will do. I hope things are going better.”

“They are, thanks.”

She hung up. Tom was looking at her reproachfully. “Why would you do that? You make a big deal about how we never have time for each other, and then you shove me out the door on a project that will last six months.”

“Because, love, we have to learn to live our lives together, and not just when we are on vacation. You’re an actor, and a damn good one, and you love Shakespeare and this role is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I can’t in good conscience let you pass this up.” She smiled at him. “You’re going to be amazing.”

“But…” he started, and she put her fingers on his lips to hush him.

“And besides, this means six months of you coming home to me each night, and being there when I wake up in the morning. I know eight shows a week isn’t an easy schedule, but at least we’ll be together for it.”

He smiled against her hand as he realized the truth of what she was saying.

She tapped another button on her phone with her thumb, leaving her fingers pressed against Tom’s lips. Tom heard a voice on the other end answer.

“Yes, this is Doctor Thompson. Can you please check my calendar and tell me what I have scheduled for tomorrow?”

She listened and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do those two surgeries in the morning. Reschedule the lunch for next week, and then call Dr. Gray and tell him I need him to cover my rounds in the afternoon. Tell him he owes me…thank you, Sarah.”

She smiled at Tom as she hung up the call. “Well, Mister Hiddleston, it looks like my afternoon and your afternoon are completely free tomorrow. Would you like to take your wife on a date?”

He kissed the fingers that were still gently pressed against his lips. “It would be my pleasure.”

He took her hand in both of his and held it, gently stroking his thumb across its back. After a minute of companionable silence, he looked at her regretfully and said, “I’m sorry, Anna, but I have to ask you something.”

She tensed, knowing that she was going to have to face the consequences of the terrible accusations that she had flung at him the previous night.

“Do you respect me?”

Such a simple question, but the self-doubt that laced his words tore at her like talons.

“Of course I do,” was her automatic response.

“Really? Because what you said last night didn’t seem like you were making it up as you went along. It sounded like you had been harboring those feelings for a while until you finally erupted from the pressure.” He looked betrayed, as if his most cherished truth had been shown to be a lie.

“I get mad about you being charming to other people when I feel like I’m not getting my share of your attention,” she said tentatively, trying to figure out how to explain what she was feeling. “I guess I feel like I’m entitled to a certain amount of your affection, and…” she trailed off. “See, I told you I was selfish.”

“You’re not selfish, you’re my wife. You are entitled to be first in my heart.”

She smiled gratefully. “And I love you and I love your hair and your eyes and your voice that magically makes my panties fall off,” she blushed as he grinned mischievously, “and I love how much you know about everything. I love it when you completely flummox people who are interviewing you because they ask some fluff question and you end up quoting Shakespeare and pontificating on the meaning of life. I mean honestly, I don’t think the press corps is ever going to let you and Ben be in a movie together again because interviewing the two of you together is like watching college professors dry humping.”

His laugh was loud and genuine.

“You’re incredibly talented. I mean, I think it’s good for humanity that you don’t do romantic comedies, because no woman would ever willingly procreate with another man after watching you try and get someone to fall in love with you.” She hesitated.

“Go on,” he prompted her, his voice tender.

“But if I have to say which is more important for people to have, access to medical care or acting, I’m going to say medical care. Now, I’m not saying me being a doctor makes me a better person than you because you’re an actor; I’m just talking on the level of basic need here.

“I can understand that,” he responded quietly.

She continued, “You work incredibly hard, but I don’t see a lot of that. And that’s partly because your job is to make it not look like work. I see all the hard parts of my job, and I see you drinking champagne and playing table tennis and getting your picture taken, and when I’m mad at you for something, it’s easy to see only what you want to see.”

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “You know how they say opposites attract?” He nodded and she went on. “We’re really different. You are spontaneous and fun and relaxed and I tend to plan everything and have lists and work before play and must save the world. You brought a level of excitement into my life that I hadn’t really felt before. It was like you discovered this secret playful part of my personality, and I felt different and special when I was with you.” She smiled at him, memories of their courtship flooding back. The flowers for no reason, the times when he would just show up at the hospital to say hi because he couldn’t stand being away from her any longer, the times they would go on road trips with no destination. It had been incredibly flattering to be singled out for that attention.

“Just the fact that you chose me when you could have a different woman every night for twenty years and the line would still be around the block made me feel special. But at some point, I got tired of being the grown up in the relationship. I got tired of planning my schedule around yours. And I know this is ironic because of how much I love Peter Pan, but I just wanted you to grow up already! I mean, my mom was a mom, and my dad worked and came home every night and we all had dinner together and I thought that was what grown up life looked like when I was a kid.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she continued talking because she knew she was at fault.

“So, I looked at you, and I said, ‘Well, he’s travelling all over the world, and going to parties, and doing photo shoots; if he would just change, then I could have the life I thought I would have when I was young. And I didn’t really stop to think about the fact that I don’t really want that life. I wouldn’t be happy in that life. It’s easier to blame you than face the fact that I’ve made choices in my past that I wouldn’t make again if given the opportunity to do so.”

There was a long pause, as Anna thought about what she would have done differently if she had known then what she knew now.

“Do you want to know why I wanted to go to Guinea?” he asked quietly.

“Why?”

“Because I thought it would be something that would help me see the world the way you see it. You’ve always been so passionate about our responsibility to help others, and that was never really part of my life, and it’s something I admire about you. And I came home and told you about what UNICEF wanted me to do, that I finally have this amazing opportunity, and instead of being excited about it, your response was, ‘Well, it’s about time you got involved in something like this.’ I felt like I was a disappointment to you, like a child who had disappointed their parent.” His words were suffused with bitterness and he stood up and started pacing the floor, needing to release some of the nervous energy that was building up inside him.

“I wanted you to go with me not just because you’re a doctor, but because you’re my wife and I wanted to have this experience with you, but you just dismissed it out of hand; you were too busy at work to take the time to go do this together.” He stopped pacing, and turned to face her. He continued, sounding frustrated. “Honestly, Anna, sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, it will never be good enough to please you. You say you wish I would grow up and be an adult, but I wish you would stop treating me like a child.”

Anna winced. She could feel the sting of tears but blinked them back. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “I guess I don’t really respect you, because I keep trying to make you into something you’re not, instead of loving you for the person you are. I want you on my terms and that’s not fair to you.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed emphatically. “I love you, Anna,” he paused and took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he let it out, “but sometimes you make me feel horrible.” Anna didn’t know what was worse, the words or that he didn’t even sound angry, just resigned to his bleak fate.

“No wonder you’re gone so much,” she sighed. “I’ve stopped giving you a reason to come home.”

She sat silently on the couch. He stood in the middle of the living room, his hands on his hips. Both of them felt defeated, trapped in a stalemate scenario with no visible means of resolution.

Anna finally stood and walked over to Tom. Standing in front of him, she looked up at him and said simply, “I’m sorry.”

This close to him, she could see the slight quiver in his chin, and continued, “If I could decorate a room to show you how sorry I am, I would. I’m not as creative as you; I don’t know what to do to start to fix this. So I’m just going to admit I don’t know, and ask you to tell me. What can I do, Tom? What’s the most important thing I can do right now to show you that I love you?”


	5. What Can I Do?

“Quit your job,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” she answered calmly, without hesitation.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. If that’s what you need right now from me, then I’ll do that for you.” She reached up and clasped his face gently between her hands. “I’ve been unhappy for a while, and the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s because I’ve lost sight of what’s most important to me. And that’s you.”

His brow furrowed as he concentrated on her face. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You would really quit your job?” he said in disbelief.

She smiled up at him. “Yes, I would. You are my priority.”

“You would be miserable just waiting around for me,” he protested.

“I’m miserable now knowing how much I’ve hurt you. At least that way, you would be happier. It’s a net gain,” she insisted.

“But I don’t want you to be miserable either. I wouldn’t ask you to give up something you’ve worked so hard for, something you enjoy doing.”

“So it was just a test, then?” she said, an edge of irritation in her voice.

He nodded shamefacedly. “I didn’t think you would actually do it.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s understandable.” She pulled away from him. “I mean, it hurts, but it’s totally justified. But I really mean it when I say I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy again.” She turned so she wasn’t facing him. When she spoke again, her voice was so quiet he could barely hear it. “I saw a glimpse of a possible future tonight when I walked into that beautiful nursery. All I could think of while I stood there was waking up some night and you not being next to me in bed and going to look for you and finding you stretched out asleep in that chair with little William sleeping on your chest.” Her voice was choked with suppressed tears. “And I will do anything I can to give that future a chance.”

He stepped close to her, close enough that he could feel the heat from her body against his arms. He tenderly raised her face, one hand gently gripping her chin, until she was looking at him. She hadn’t seen that smile in a long time, the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made his face light up like a summer morning. “William?” he asked softly.

“If that’s okay with you,” she responded shyly. “I’d like to name him after his daddy.”

Tom’s breath caught in his throat, stuck fast by the shattering realization that this was one of those moments that he had been waiting for his whole life, without even knowing he wanted it. “I’d like that too.”

“So, tell me what you want me to do to show you I love you,” she whispered.

“Kiss me.”

She swallowed. And then she placed her hands gently on his chest. She raised herself on her toes, her eyes fixed on his lips. The first caress was just her breath against his skin, a momentary warmth that played across his mouth, and then she softly brushed her lips against his. They were soft, but firm, and as her lips slanted against his, she felt them open slightly. She kissed him tenderly, repeatedly, until her breath shuddered as she exhaled. Anna felt his lips close on hers and slid her arms up around his neck, one hand tangling in his curls. His arms slid around her waist, and one hand found a home at the small of her back, the other one slowly stroking up the line of her spine, pressing her gently into him. He gently suckled her bottom lip, drawing a soft sound of pleasure from her. Emboldened, she touched the tip of her tongue to his bottom lip, and he parted his lips to him. They slowly explored each other mouths with lips and tongue and teeth. Anna tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, eliciting a moan. Tom responded by raking his teeth across the tip of her tongue and was rewarded with a pleading whimper. After a few minutes, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavy, the air between them warmed by the radiant heat of their bodies and their breath.

“I think we should stop here.” His voice was husky, a rough edge to his normally liquid tone.

“We don’t have to,” she responded as she slowly traced the tendon in his neck with one fingertip.

“I know, but,” he stepped back to extricate himself from her hands and the sensations they were eliciting, “I don’t want to feel like I’m coercing you into having sex to prove to me that you love me.”

She didn’t know where to put her hands now that he had removed them from him. She ended up with one hand crossed in front of her, and the other rubbing her forehead, her nose crinkled in confusion. “But I do love you and I want to have sex with you. You wouldn’t be coercing me into anything.”

“You say you love me, but you just admitted a few minutes ago that you aren’t sure that you respect me. And I don’t care if you are my wife, I don’t want to have sex with someone who doesn’t respect who I am.”

“Oh.” It was like a blow to the stomach. He couldn’t even make love to her. She had no idea how to respond.

“You need to understand, Anna. I didn’t have the whole happy childhood and blissful home life you did. I want to be secure in the knowledge that we are as happy and stable as possible before we add a child to the mix, because I will not bring a baby into our family knowing that it is on the verge of falling apart.” He was adamant.

“Then why did you make a nursery if you think that we’re never going to use it?”

“Because you’re not the only one who has hopes for the future. I want us to be happy. I want us to have some little sprogs running around the house getting into things and maybe a dog, too. But as you so wittily put it last night,” his sarcasm was biting, “children are not a souvenir. They’re a responsibility. And I’m responsible for making sure my children are born to parents who love each other.”

“Okay, then.” Her body was rigid, and her jaw was clenched, but she wasn’t sure if it was to keep from yelling at him or crying. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Where should I plan on sleeping, since we no longer have a guest bed?”

“Oh, sweetness, that’s not what I meant.” He stepped forward quickly and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, her nose almost touching the skin where his throat melded into his chest. She could smell him, sandalwood and vetiver and honest sweat. “There are so many nights where I can’t hold you as I sleep for me to ever give up the ones that I can. I think…I mean, we have no problem with our love life.” The satisfied purr in his voice made her smile. “However, I think we might have been relying on physical intimacy to make up for the lack of emotional intimacy we’ve had lately.”

“Have you been watching those relationship shows on the telly again?” she asked, giggling.

“Hey, I spend a lot of time in hotel rooms, and sometimes you need a break from memorizing lines.” She could tell he was grinning by the tone in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it.

“Seriously, though, I think we ought to…I guess date is the right word. Fall in love with each other over again.”

She smirked. “I think you remember our first date differently than I do.”

He laughed. “What do you remember?”

“Getting my fairy dust allll over you.”

He shivered and then responded cheekily, “Yes, I think you did walk the plank quite a few times that night.”

She laughed. “I had problems walking the next day. I don’t think my hips have ever been the same.”

He slid his hands from her back to her hips and squeezed gently. “I love your hips,” Tom whispered against her forehead, before placing a soft kiss there as well.

She sighed softly, tightening her arms around his waist for a few moments. “Okay, I can understand why we’re doing this, but it’s going to be hard.”

“It already is,” he chuckled.

She smiled but didn’t respond. Instead, she just enjoyed being in his arms for a long minute. She finally said, “We should go to bed. You have a big meeting tomorrow, and you need to get some sleep.”

He made a contented noise deep in his throat before kissing her on the forehead again. “Okay, but I get to be the big spoon.”


	6. Artistic Differences

Anna made a sleepy little groan as she felt Tom trying to extricate himself from the sheets without waking her up. She rolled in his direction and burrowed into his side, draping one arm over his stomach. She wondered if it was possible to hear a smile, because she swore she could hear him. She smiled herself as she felt his hand stroke up and down her back. They’d both worn pajamas, a rarity for them, but her shirt had ridden up during the night, and as his hand roamed down her back his hand encountered her soft skin and came to rest in the dip of her spine.

“Okay, sleepyhead, I really have to get up now,” he said softly after a few minutes.

“Uh-uh.” She still hadn’t opened her eyes.

He chuckled and she opened one eye. She looked at the clock and then closed it again. “Why could you possibly need to get up this early?”

“I’m going to go for a run so I can get that done before my meeting, and still have time to get all the other things I need to do out of the way so I can give you my full attention this afternoon.”

“Is it even light outside?”

“Well, if it’s not, I’ll take my headtorch.”

She giggled, the image of him running through the neighborhood with a flashing light on his head too adorable to resist. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Fiiiine,” she mock complained, as she rolled back over, freeing him to go.

He bent over and kissed her, the lightest of touches. A few seconds later, she half-opened her eyes to see him going into the closet to get his running gear. “Do you want some company?”

“What?” he called back.

“Do you want me to come running with you?” she asked, a little louder.

Laughter was his only response.

“What’s so funny?”

He came back out of the closet, pulling a shirt over his head, and walked over to her side of the bed and sat down next to her. “Thank you for the offer, love, but one, I know how much you hate running, and two, you are the world’s worst morning person; I think it will be better for us all if you stay here and get an extra hour of sleep.” He said it so sweetly she couldn’t even be irritated. She stifled a yawn and smiled. “Okay.” He kissed her again, a little longer this time, and stood to go find his shoes. She scooched over to his side of the bed, wrapped her arms around his pillow, and closed her eyes. She was sound asleep by the time he left the room.

She awoke to the sound of the shower. He was singing to himself, but she couldn’t really tell what over the noise of the water. Normally she would have just wandered in and listened, but she didn’t really feel like she could. Instead, she went downstairs to make herself some coffee. She found Tom had already started it brewing. _What a nice man_ , she thought. She really wasn’t a morning person; she required something to get her going in the morning, and since the alternative was in the shower and off limits, the coffee would have to do.

She was nursing her second cup while checking her email when she heard the water turn off. She closed her laptop and went in to the kitchen and poured a cup for Tom, taking it upstairs with her. She found him still in the bathroom, shaving his face. She smiled at him in the circle of mirror that he had cleaned off enough to see himself, the rest of the mirror still fogged over from his shower. He smiled back at her as she placed the mug on the bathroom counter.

“Did you have a good run?”

He murmured an affirmative as he ran the razor under his chin. She realized after a few moments that she was just staring at him, watching him shave, and shook her head slightly to bring herself back to the present. She stripped off her pajamas and got into the shower, the glass door closing behind her. “You better have left me some hot water.”

“I did.” He had stopped shaving and was staring at her now.

Anna firmly believed that one of the best things about being married to Tom was this shower. She never would have afforded it on her salary, but when they bought their home, he had the bathroom renovated for just this purpose. She pushed the button that stored her settings, and moaned in delight as she was deluged with hot water. Jets from both sides combined with a rainfall shower from overhead at her perfect temperature. She surrendered to the sensation and just stood, letting the water work out some of the tension in her shoulders. She rolled her head, letting the water cascade down her neck while doing some of the stretches Tom had taught her to loosen the kinks in her back. Despite having spent the night in her husband’s arms, she knew they both weren’t okay. Mentally reviewing the conversation from last night, she felt like they had both been working their hardest to keep it civil, but the hurt and pain had bubbled up repeatedly, and as much time they spent reassuring each other that they still loved each other, they had spent almost as much inflicting new hurts. At least, last night it had been aimed at being stronger in the long term, instead of the night previous when they had both just been lashing out at each other. She still didn’t know what she was going to do about showing Tom she respected him. She was still struggling with the idea of respecting him for who he was, rather than who she wanted him to be. What was wrong with trying to make things better?

She sighed and opened her eyes to reach for the shampoo only to realize Tom was still in the bathroom. He was leaning against the opposite wall sipping his coffee and watching her.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, trying not to grin.

He smiled. “No, just drinking my coffee.”

“Shouldn’t you go get dressed or something?”

He smiled. “Probably.”

“Are you going to?”

His smile widened into a grin. “Probably not.”

She shook her head in mock dismay. “Go get your clothes on. If you’re not going to touch, you don’t get to look either.” She stuck her tongue out at him and then winked.

He pouted at her but exited the bathroom.

She finished getting ready for work, and went downstairs and into the kitchen. Tom was sitting at the table in his pants drinking one of his green smoothies and checking through his email. She filled her travel mug with coffee and went to kiss Tom goodbye. She bent over to drop a kiss on top of his head, and he snaked one of his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He looked up at her. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been so long since I bunked off an afternoon that I’m not even sure what’s available.”

“Okay, I’ll plan this one, and you plan the next date.” He smiled up at her.

“Do you just want to meet back here when we’re done with work?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, I need to go if I’m going to get to work on time.” They kissed goodbye.

He went upstairs to get dressed and found that she had pulled out some clothes for him and left them on the bed with a note that said, “Wear these, it’s my favorite look on you. It makes you look very powerful. Roll your sleeves. It makes you look sexy. I’d tell you to break a leg but you are too crazily talented to need any of my wishes. Love you. A.” He slipped on the black trousers, white button down shirt and black vest. She had left a few different ties for him to choose among. He finished getting dressed and then folded and slipped her note in his pocket.

When Anna got home around noon, she called Tom’s name as she entered. “In here,” he called from the living room. She walked into the living room and broke out in a grin. Tom was sitting on the floor on top of a checkered blanket. He’d laid out a picnic lunch for them, fruit, cheeses, a baguette, wine, some sort of chocolates. He’d even placed some pillows on the blanket and moved the houseplants all in to the room to give it an outdoor flair.

She kicked off her sandals and went to join him, sinking down on the blanket next to him. He leaned over and kissed her hello. She leaned into the kiss, parting her lips slightly in invitation. He smiled against her lips, but pulled back. She pouted at him for a moment and then grinned. “This looks lovely.”

He chuckled. “I thought we would have our picnic here so we didn’t have to worry about getting interrupted like we might if we were in a park.”

“Very thoughtful,” she agreed. “How was your meeting?”

“Frustrating. The producers aren’t sure that I would be a good fit for the role.”

“Why in heaven would they think that? Have they never seen you act? You are Mr. Shakespeare! You are this generation’s answer to Olivier or Branaugh!” She was indignant, her cheeks flushing.

He smiled. “I’m too tall and too good looking according to them. The original Richard was short and ugly.”

“And your York was black in Henry V. There’s such a thing as artistic leeway,” she snorted in derision. “Hell, the original Juliet was a man!”

He couldn’t help but grin at her vehement response. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

She blushed. “No,” she answered sweetly.

“Well, let me fix that.” He took one of her hands in both of his. “Anna, I love you. That you are so passionate about me getting to do Shakespeare is delightful.” He gently kissed the back of her hand. “And that I can still make you blush after all these years gives me all sorts of ideas.” He grinned mischievously.

“Oh, that’s your Loki face. Should I be scared?” she teased him.

“That depends. Are you willing to submit to me?” He was laughing when he said it, but then their eyes met, and the atmosphere in the room changed, heavy and electric, like there was a storm brewing. He slowly reached forward, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck and using it to pull her towards him slightly. His thumb wrapped around to the front of her throat, and slowly stroked up and down. He asked quietly, “Are you willing to obey?”


	7. Obey?

Anna could feel the additional pressure from Tom’s thumb as she swallowed nervously. “Obey?”

“Yes, sweetness. Are you willing to obey me?” He was still caressing her throat as he talked. Anna felt pinned like a mouse beneath a snake’s gaze as he watched her face for any reaction.

“Ummm…” she hesitated, tantalized by the feel of his skin stroking against her sensitive neck. “For how long?” she asked, her voice sounding strangely high to herself.

“For as long as I say.” He leaned forward and flicked the tip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hollow at the base of her throat, and then blew against the dampness, sending a shiver through her body. He continued dropping little soft kisses across her collarbone, nudging her shirt out of the way with his nose as he went.

“What happened to your decision not to have sex?” She couldn’t believe she was protesting him kissing her.

“Maybe I changed my mind,” he whispered in her ear and then raked his teeth against her earlobe.

“Okay, stop.” She pushed him away. “What’s going on? I thought the point of these dates was to do something besides shag each other silly.”

He sat back and picked up his wineglass and took a big swallow. He didn’t say anything.

“Tom, what is it?”

“Do you trust me?” The helplessness in his voice made him sound almost childlike.

“What? Of course I trust you. You’ve never given me any reason not to, and so many reasons why I should.”

He looked up at her sideways, not really wanting to meet her gaze. “Not enough to actually submit, though.”

“Just because I don’t want to get tied up with ropes and whipped doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.”

He looked at her oddly. “Why do you think I would do that?”

Her eyebrows raised in confusion. “Isn’t that what the submission stuff is all about? Bondage? Spanking?”

He laughed, “That’s not what I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of trust.” His face grew serious. “Do you trust me enough to give me power over you? Do you trust that I love you and know you so well that I know what you want and need more than you do?”

Her mouth was suddenly dry.

“Do you trust me enough to know not just how to take care of your body but your soul?”

She cursed his voice and his way with words. She just wanted to fling herself at him and take his clothes off with her teeth. But she also knew him well enough to know that there was something else underlying his question. The subtle tension in his shoulders, the way he kept fidgeting with his beard, the quiet urgency underlying his question, even trying to distract her with sex; this was Tom not wanting to talk about something. And while some days she gave in and just made love to him, trusting that the issue would come out eventually, she needed to know what was bothering him so much that he felt like he couldn’t talk about it even after everything they had said to each other over the last few days.

Anna scooted over on the blanket so she was sitting directly in front of him. She picked up one of the beautiful truffles he had placed on a plate and held one up to him. He leaned forward and took it from her fingers with his mouth. His quiet moan of enjoyment sent shivers up her spine.  She took a sip of wine and waited until he was done eating. Then she took his hands in hers. “Tell me what’s going on. What is that you don’t want to tell me?”

He was quiet for a few moments. “One of the reasons I suggested adopting a baby was because I’m scared of what would happen if,” he hesitated, “if you miscarry again. Watching you go through that and there was nothing I could do to fix it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You were so sad, and I wanted to do something, anything, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do to make it okay. It was the most powerless I’ve ever felt in my life. And all I could do was sit there and hold your hand while you cried.”

“That was enough,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“No, it wasn’t!” he insisted. “I’m supposed to keep you safe! I’m supposed to be able to protect you, and there wasn’t anything I could do! I got you pregnant, and all it brought you was pain! How am I supposed to want to do that to you again?” His face was a mix of anger and anguish.

“We,” she stressed the word, “got me pregnant. I was an active participant in that process. And if you think that I didn’t understand the risks of what we were doing, then you’re wrong. A lot of women miscarry. It’s just the way it is. And yes, I didn’t understand the full impact of what the numbers meant until it happened to me, to us, but I don’t want my life choices dictated to me by fear. You’re the bravest, strongest person I know. You always go for your dreams. Why should this be any different?”

His voice was so low she could barely hear him. “It’s so much easier to risk myself than it is to risk you.” His heart was in his eyes as they roamed over her face, memorizing this moment like he was never going to see her again. Then he looked down at their clasped hands and continued talking. “I called Luke while we were at the hospital that morning. I had him get someone to replace the mattress while we were waiting,” again he hesitated, “waiting for the doctor to confirm that the baby was gone. There was so much blood that I knew I would never be able to get it out, never be able to sleep on it again. I didn’t want you to see it.”

Tears shone in Anna’s eyes. She had never known he had done that. She’d been in such shock that she hadn’t even thought about the mattress or sheets. She remembered waking up that morning with the feeling like her period had started, the wetness familiar from a few decades of monthly encounters. It had taken a few seconds to remember that she was pregnant. And then she had flipped back the blankets, stood, and cried Tom’s name. The rest of that day was just a slideshow of images and sounds in her memory. Riding to hospital begging God to make everything okay, the sound of the doctor’s voice as he said, ‘I’m so sorry,’ listening to the obstetrician explain to Tom the costs and benefits of a D&C versus letting it pass naturally, the smell of the anesthesia, waking up to Tom holding her hand and stroking her hair. Just little snapshots with a soundtrack of tears.

He brushed her tears from her cheeks and tried to smile. “You’re so strong. You have this great huge personality. And I wasn’t used to seeing you like that. So quiet; so vulnerable. “

Anna started to understand. “So you want me to be vulnerable for you in a situation you can control to make sure it has a good ending. You want me -”

Tom interrupted. “I want you to not just want me. I want you to need me. You are the most amazing woman I know, and I wonder sometimes if you would even miss me if I were gone.”

Anna pulled back from him. “How could you think that?”

The tender mood from a few moments earlier was evaporating like frost before the sun. “You said yourself that you wish that I would just grow up. You want me to be someone else. How is that not wishing I was gone?” Anger slowly replaced the melancholy in his voice.

“I don’t want you to be someone else,” Anna insisted. “I want you to be -” her voice trailed off as the realization hit her. “Oh god, you’re right. I keep telling myself that I’m trying to make our life better, but really what I’m trying to do is make you different.”

“Right.” Exasperation was evident not only in the edge to his voice, but in the set of his jaw, as it jutted forward. “I am, in this moment, not enough for you. What happens to me if you find someone else? Someone who is more of an adult, someone who can make you happier, someone -”

This time Anna interrupted. “No one can make me as happy as you.”

“Really?” His voice and his eyebrows rose in unbelief. “Because you haven’t been happy in months. _We_ haven’t been happy in months. And if I am trying as hard as I can and you’re still this unhappy, maybe your fucking standards are too high!”

Anna recoiled as if she had been slapped. And then she started to cry. It began slowly, with her chin quivering and blinking her eyes, desperately trying to keep the tears from falling. But then the first one fell. And then a second. And a third. She stopped counting, knowing that as there was not a limit on the pain she felt in that moment, so there could not be a number on anything else. Like standing on the ramparts of a castle under siege, she understood the completeness of her defeat as the emotional walls she had maintained for so long crumbled under the onslaught of his frustration and pain.

“I surrender,” she whispered. “I have tried so hard to be the person you need me to be, and I just can’t do it. I give up."

Tom’s voice was soft again, and he looked at her with all the earnestness he could muster. “I don’t want the person you think you have to be. I want you. The person you are right now.”

She couldn’t meet the intensity of his gaze, but stared at her hands instead. She didn’t even bother wiping away the tears that were running down her neck and dripping off her chin. “But she’s not enough.”

“Yes she is. She is for me.” Tom took Anna’s face in both of his hands, making her look him in the eyes. “I don’t care that you steal the blankets at night. I don’t care that you hate to run. I don’t care that you get depressed in the winter, that you lose your temper when you drive, and that when you get stressed out you tend to cope with it by obsessively cleaning the house. I know you keep expensive candy stashed in a shoebox on the top shelf in the closet so you don’t have to share it. I know that you get speeding tickets on your motorbike about every three months. I know that you buy more books than you can possibly ever read because your life was so devoid of anything magical growing up that books were your only escape from reality. And I know that even now you have to keep a dozen books on your bedside table to remind you that if this fairy tale falls apart, you can still safely get away. I know that you always think that after the next promotion your dad will finally say that he loves you. I know you, Anna, and I love you, and I want you to finally let me in close enough so you will actually hear me when I say that.”

“What if you change your mind?” It was barely a whisper.

“Why would I ever change my mind? You are brilliant and stunning and charming and compassionate and wonderful and flawed and human and perfect for me because I was made to be the glue that puts you back together when you crack from the world being too hard.” She could practically feel the love radiating from him, warmth that washed over her body and filled the hollow places inside. “Anna, you are my heart. You are in every breath that I take. You are the blood in my veins. It would kill me not to love you.”

“I want to believe you, Tom. I really do. But I’m scared.” Her tremulous voice was evidence of the battle she was having with herself.

“Of what?” His voice caressed her like a lover, reassuring and patient.

“Of loving that deeply. Of letting you that close. Of giving up on the idea that if I just keep working a little bit harder than I am doing now, that I can fix everything by myself.” He heard her soft little derisive laugh. “It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud. But it’s like I feel that I only deserve your love if I’m perfect by myself.”

“I am the other half of your soul. Why would we be perfect without each other?”

She smiled up at him, the tears in her eyes luminous with the perfect love she felt in that moment. “Well, when you put it like that…” 

“Anna, trust me to take care of you. Trust me to show you that I love the person you are in this moment. Let me teach you that I am the man you need.” His hand wrapped around the nape of her neck again, gently tugging her forward; his thumb reclaimed its place stroking slowly up and down her throat. He leaned towards her, balancing his weight on his other hand and stopped his lips mere millimeters from hers. “Say yes, Anna. Let me love you.”


	8. Walking The Plank

The faintest whisper of a sound.

Yes.

Like letting go of the last fingerhold on a cliff face and falling, Anna closed the infinitesimally small distance between her lips and Tom’s.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. There was no movement. Just the feel of their lips touching and Tom’s hand curling around her neck, comforting, claiming, caressing.

Eternity shrank to this moment, and she could feel her world tilt –  

_“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Anna examined her reflection in the mirror again. The tiny green dress had her breasts up on display. It’s not like they are huge, she thought, but scrubs sure leave a lot more to the imagination. The tiny fringed skirt barely covered her ass, she noticed as she examined herself one more time. “I’m going to get picked up on solicitation charges,” she told Andrea as she exited the bathroom. Andrea took one look at her and squealed in delight. “Oh my god, there’s a body under that white coat!”_

_“I look like a tart.”_

_Andrea handed her a glass of scotch. “Here, some liquid courage for you.”_

_Anna took a deep breath and a large swallow. “If I wear this, you aren’t allowed to make fun of my clothes, hair or makeup for the next six months.”_

_Andrea laughed. “Sure, sweetie.” Anna gave her the stink-eye, but Andrea just ushered her back into the bathroom. “Okay, now close your eyes, I’m going to finish your makeup for you.”_

_“What do you mean? I already put on makeup!”_

_Andrea just rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, this is Halloween, not the time for your normal work makeup, when you even bother wearing it.”_

_Anna knew it was useless to fight. Anna and Andrea had been assigned as lab partners in Anatomy and, despite their drastically different backgrounds, had quickly become best friends. Andrea was all glitter and sparkle, and Anna was hard work and diligence, but between the two of them, they had come out at the top of their classes. They would still be roommates if Andrea hadn’t, in her perfect princess fashion, found a rich banker boyfriend and moved in with him three months ago. It was only at Andrea’s insistence that she was attending this party at all. Andrea had descended on her old flat with the costume and brooked no opposition._

_Anna closed her eyes. She sipped her drink between Andrea’s varied ministrations to her hair and face. About fifteen minutes later, she heard the word, “Okay.”_

_She opened her eyes and turned around. Her jaw dropped. Her hair, which was currently blonde, was piled on top of her head in a messy bun worked through with green ribbons, which trailed down to her shoulders. Andrea had given her a deep green eye that faded up onto her brow and down onto the tops of her cheeks. The eyeliner started out like a cat eye but turned into elaborate scroll work like vines on her temples and down her jaw. The eyelashes were long and dark with a hint of sparkle. Her face was dusted with glitter, giving her a faint shimmer when she moved and her lips were a glossy pink. She almost didn’t recognize herself._

_“Did you get certified as a makeup artist when I wasn’t paying attention?” she asked, incredulous at the transformation._

_Andrea just laughed and brushed shimmering powder over her shoulders and décolletage. “Okay, now go put your wings on, and we’re ready to go,” she responded._

_When she walked into the party, they were both immediately surrounded. She didn’t know anyone, but Andrea seemed to know everyone. She was dressed as Elizabeth Bennet, and had slipped into the personality as easily as she had put on the costume. Anna felt out of her depth. She hated parties like this where it was crowded and noisy. However, her initial impulse to go find a corner to hide in was thwarted as a man dressed as a fireman looked her up and down and said, “You’re smoking hot. I think I need to get you wet.” She stuttered out a “no, thank you” and headed for the bar. She was going to need something else to drink if she was going to get through this evening._

_It got worse at the bar. She had never heard so many horrible pick-up lines in her life, or had more of them directed at her breasts, than in those twenty minutes. She was just about to go find Andrea and say she was leaving when she heard a voice like whiskey and silk whisper in her ear, “Can I rescue you from these Lost Boys?” She turned around and there was Captain Hook, Peter Pan, Smee and Tick-Tock the Crocodile. She laughed and then looked up at the man who was standing so close to her, his head still ducked slightly so he could whisper in her ear. She met his eyes and the way he had looked at her as she had turned to him wrote a library about the reality of love at first sight. She bit her lip and nodded, and he placed his hand in the small of her back and escorted her off to a table._

_He introduced himself as Tom, and that was the only name of the four she remembered as they sat at a table. The conversation was easy and endless, and as drinks were consumed, got funnier and racier. Hands touched under the table, rested on thighs, stroked palms; fingers traced patterns on arms, and twisted together. Smee and Peter were in a steady relationship, and Tick Tock apparently was famous for flirting with anything that stood still. As he got more and more inebriated, he started writing a poem about Tick Tock and the clock and the size of his penis. Tom’s arm found its way around her waist. His hand slowly stroked up and down the side of her rib cage. Peter finally decided Tick needed to be poured into a cab before he embarrassed himself any more, and the three of them wandered off towards the exit._

_That left just Tinkerbell and Captain Hook snuggled up in a back booth of the club. She had ending up melting against the warmth of his long lean body as the evening had progressed. The hours they had spent laughing with his friends had given her a pretty good idea of his daring and outgoing personality. When they had found out she was a surgeon, the men had all started talking about the stupid things they had done to end up in hospital, and she had regaled them with the funny and bizarre things she had encountered working in emergency._

_But now that it was just the two of them, the conversation turned more personal._

_“Do you want to dance?” she asked._

_“I’d normally say yes, but I think I’m just going to be a pirate and not share the treasure I found with anyone else.”_

_“And what treasure is that?” she batted her eyelashes teasingly at him._

_“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”_

_“You are a good actor. I almost believe you when you say that,” she laughed and took another swallow of her drink._

_“You should believe it. You are amazing. Smart and sexy as hell. That’s a rare combination.”_

_“Why, Tom, if I didn’t know better, I would think you were flirting with me.” Her face moved closer to his._

_“See, I told you that you were smart.” He leaned in slightly as well._

_“Do you flirt with every girl you see?” Her voice was softer, eyes dropping to his lips._

_“Just the ones as exquisite as you.” He claimed her lips as his prize._

_They were kissing, hard and hungry, when Andrea stopped by to say she was leaving. Her boyfriend was with her now, dressed as Darcy of course. Did she want to ride with them?_

_Anna looked at Tom and saw his kiss-swollen lips but when she looked in his eyes she felt part of her awaken, a part she hadn’t even been aware was slumbering, just waiting for his sunlight to bloom._

_“No, I’m going to stay for a little while longer. I’ll just call a cab.”_

_Andrea looked meaningfully at Tom and gave her a thumbs-up behind his back._

_They left not long after that, sharing a cab back to her flat. Even intoxicated, he managed to keep his hands in mostly appropriate places until they arrived at their destination. He helped her up the stairs, her balance a little precarious from both the liquor flowing through her veins and the spiked heels she was wearing. He was hard against her back as she fumbled with her keys. His hands were on her waist, and he was nuzzling the back of her neck. “You need to take these wings off. They keep getting in the way,” he muttered laughingly._

_She finally got the lock undone and they fell through the door. She slammed it shut and he pushed her up against it. Their kisses were hungry, tongues and teeth and moans of pleasure. She pushed him back so she could slip off her wings and let them fall to the floor. His hands roamed up under her dress and cupped her ass, pulling her closer against him. Her hands fell to the huge buckle on his belt, and she giggled as she couldn’t figure out how to get the costume to unfasten. She blinked in confusion, realizing that he was wearing a sword belt as well as the one that went with his pants. Recognizing her befuddled look, he laughed and helped her out. With each other’s help, he was quickly divested of his costume, a trail of clothes, belts and other paraphernalia leading away from the door deeper into her flat. His boots joined her discarded heels. Her dress was the last to go, leaving her in just a pair of black lace cheeky panties. He was in a pair of blue pants. Their eyes roved over the newly exposed skin, quickly followed by hands and then mouths. His hand caught the ribbons trailing from her hair and tugged her head back, exposing more of her throat to his lips._

_Encouraged by the moan that elicited, he picked her up in both arms and carried her down the hall. She pointed at one of the doors, her lips on his, not wanting to break apart, and he pushed the door open with his foot. He placed her on her bed and stood, letting his eyes roam her body appreciatively. He got an oddly melancholy look on his face._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_He shook his head, trying to bring himself back to the moment. “Nothing.”_

_She sat up. “Okay, now you’re being a terrible actor. What’s going on in that curly blond head of yours?”_

_He looked down at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. Her face was level with his stomach, and he lifted a hand to cup her face, his fingers slipping around her ear. He appeared mesmerized by the beauty of her face, eyes dark with desire, lips swollen, the curve of her chin, and then the line of her throat below, the swell of her breasts, the scrap of black lace at the cleft of her thighs. “You are like a work of art.”_

_She blushed, but he wouldn’t let her evade his gaze. “I was just trying to decide how I got so lucky to have such a magical creature bestow her affections on me. It’s not every day a man finds a playful pixie to bewitch him.” He smiled as the flush spread from her cheeks down across her chest._

_Uncomfortable with the sudden emotional intensity, she tugged at his pants. “Let’s see what kind of sword Captain Hook has,” she said with a wicked grin. She pulled them down his thighs and he sprang to attention._

_She blinked. “That’s not a sword, that’s your own plank.”_

_He laughed. “Come on, Tink. Time to face your punishment.” His smile was as lascivious as hers._

_She woke up the next morning, sore and sated on a level she hadn’t even known she had needed; she rolled over and saw a note on the pillow. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.  You are definitely my happy thought. Tom.” She knew then that she wouldn’t see him again, and the tender new part of her wilted, stunted by the sudden withdrawal of his attention._

_A week later she answered a knock on her door and there he was. He looked bashful and apologized for not having called. She invited him in and within minutes they were back in her bedroom, naked and sweaty, grasping, clinging, moving in unison._

_That was the pattern for their next six months. He showed up about once a week. They would spend the night together; sex and conversation and laughter and food. She fell deeper and deeper in love with him each time. But she couldn’t say it. She knew it wasn’t returned. It was killing her slowly, knowing her heart belonged to a man who didn’t want it. Andrea became increasingly concerned about her as the days between his visits saw her slump into a mild depression. She would pull her away between patients or steal a moment on rounds to check in with her, encourage her to call him – she couldn’t bear to tell them that she didn’t even have his number – or just have it out._

_She finally gave in, knowing that as much as she loved him, she couldn’t keep living like this. She wanted a partnership, a house and kids and… She wanted to be loved back. When he showed up the next time, she didn’t let him into the flat. She stood in the doorway, and simply said, “I can’t keep doing this.”_

_“Doing what?” he looked confused._

_“Being your fuckbuddy. My heart doesn’t work that way.” She could barely look him in the eyes._

_She couldn’t tell what emotion it was that flashed over his face. “What are you saying?”_

_“I’m saying that I’m in love with you and I can’t just be a piece of ass on the side for someone, no much how I love them. I love myself too much to let me be that small.” Her voice was quiet, but her tone was firm, almost fierce._

_“Is that what you think you are to me? Just a piece of ass?” He was dumbfounded._

_“I see you once a week. Always here. We’ve never gone anywhere. I’ve never seen your friends since the night we met. I’ve never seen your flat. You never call. You just show up expecting me to be here. And I am so pathetic I always am. Just waiting for you to show up. I’m cancelling doing things with my real friends so I don’t risk missing you in case you decide to show up. What else am I supposed to think?” He didn’t answer. She continued, “I can’t live like this. It will break my heart to make you go, but it will destroy my life if I don’t.”_

_He extracted a photo from his wallet and handed it to her. She started in surprise when she looked at the picture. Her eyes flicked up to his and back to the photo. It was of the night they had met. Both of them in costume, turned in towards each other even though they were supposed to be looking at the camera. His arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, pulling her against him so their stomachs were touching. They were both laughing, looking at each other. They both looked incredibly happy. They looked like best friends. The edges of the photo were worn, like it had been removed and handled regularly._

_“Why,” she stopped and swallowed nervously, “why do you have this in your wallet?”_

_“Because I’m in love with you, silly. And I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that you wouldn’t fall for a guy like me, so I tried to stay away but I can’t. That’s why I left that first morning. And then Paul gave me this picture he took at the party. And it all came back to me. I can’t forget the smell of your shampoo, or the way you move in your sleep to get closer to me, or the feel of your lips on mine or how you laugh at the dumbest jokes in any movie or the way that just seeing you makes me smile so much I think my jaw will break. It’s why I try and wait as long as I can between visits. I didn’t want to get hurt any more than I absolutely had to.”_

_She was stunned. “Why didn’t you say something?”_

_“Why didn’t you?” he responded, smiling down at her._

_“Because I woke up that first morning and you were gone. You didn’t leave me a number. You didn’t call. I thought I was just a one night stand. And then you showed up again. And we had fabulous amazing sex, but you didn’t mention anything about wanting to date, so I thought –” she paused for a few seconds. “Tom, I’m not the type of girl that guys like you fall for.”_

_“Anna, let me in.”_

_She did, and he took her by the hand and led her to the living room. He sat them both down on the couch._

_“Okay, what do you mean that you’re not the type of girl that guys like me fall for?”_

_“Well, you’re funny and charming and gorgeous and posh and going to be a world famous actor –” he laughed and she thought how she would never tire of hearing that beautiful sound, “You are! I don’t know anything about acting and I can tell how amazing you are. I can only imagine how impressed people who actually understand your craft are going to be with you.”_

_“Well, darling, thank you for your vote of support.” He smiled, though really he hadn’t stopped smiling since he had heard her say that she loved him._

_“You’re welcome; but world famous gorgeous talented actors don’t marry doctors from Bristol.”_

_“Marry?” he was startled._

_She blushed and looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Well, yes. Eventually I want to get married, and have kids and do the whole family vacations and football matches and homework routine.”_

_He chucked her under the chin so that she would look at him. “What makes you think I don’t want that?”_

_She didn’t have an answer to that._

_“Anna, I love you, and the idea that you might actually love me makes me want to shout from the rooftops”._

_She could barely look at him, overwhelmed by the joy shining from his face. “I love you, Tom. How could possibly think that I wouldn’t fall in love with you?”_

_“You’re a surgeon and have a growing medical practice and are political and I’m a guy trying to make a living at make believe. I thought I was just a bit of fun for you on the side until you found someone more your equal.”_

_She smiled. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”_

_He leaned in and kissed her._

_The next morning she woke up and he was still there. Over the next few months they slowly moved in together. She was doing emergency surgeries at the hospital and he was on the stage and doing auditions and both of their schedules were crazy and so they just decided it was easier for them both to just have one place so that they wouldn’t miss out on each other for even a single moment of any overlap they had in their time off._

_She had gotten it into her head that he had fallen in love with the Tinkerbell-tinted version of her, and she had always tried to live up to the image she thought he had of her. There had always been a part of her that believed that if it had been a normal party, instead of one where she was barely clothed, that he would never have noticed her. But now she knew that he knew her, the selfish, scared, small parts of her that she thought she had hidden so well and it didn’t change the way he felt.  He knew her, and he loved her regardless._

– and then achieve a new balance.


	9. First Date

The Center Cannot Hold – Chapter Nine

His lips lingered on hers for a long moment. Reluctantly Tom pulled back from her. “You should eat. You’re going to need your energy for what I have planned this afternoon.” A little whimper of disappointment escaped her mouth. He smiled and licked his lips, that little unconscious movement that she had grown to love so much. It didn’t do anything to abate the desire she had for him. He was insistent, though, that they eat so that the next stage of the afternoon could begin.

An hour later found them both in his car. Anna had no idea where they were going. Her queries to Tom had just been met with a mischievous grin and the words, “Just trust me.” She tried to just enjoy the ride and the time with Tom. He knew how much she hated not being in charge of everything, so this had to be part of her challenge: to learn how to let go sometimes and let him be in control.

He finally pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car. Anna looked at the large building. “Seriously?” Tom laughed. “Yes! You need to remember how to have fun again.” Anna looked back at the building. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been to an indoor amusement park. The promise of arcades and bumper cars and miniature golf didn’t seem to be as delightful to her as it did to him, but she plastered on a smile. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Tom paid for their tickets and fastened her all access pass around her wrist, his thumb rubbing teasingly over her pulse point as he did so. “What shall we do first?” he asked. She smiled up at him and replied, “I want to see you try and fit in a bumper car.”

Anna got the giggles watching Tom try and fold his lanky frame into one of the small vehicles. She fit much easier into the bright red car she had chosen. As they arranged themselves at the starting line with the six other players, she looked over at him and smiled. He mouthed the words, “Your ass is mine.” She stuck her tongue out. “Only if you can catch it.”

Three hours later, her cheeks and abdomen ached from the amount of laughing she had done. The bumper cars were just the start. The one race had turned into best two out of three, which had morphed into best three out of five. Though she had claimed victory there, he had won at miniature golf. She claimed that he was cheating by posing ridiculously next to the hole when she was trying to putt. He said she was welcome to distract him however she chose, counting on her more reserved demeanor to save him. Tom had left her in his dust on their Dance, Dance Revolution contest. She had felt self-conscious, especially when people realized who she was dancing against and stopped to watch. Tom was always an amazing dancer, but the thrill of the crowd added a little extra zing to his performance. She snuck off to the snack bar while he was signing autographs and taking pictures with his fans. When he finally finished, he found her at a small table watching him with a smile on her face. She handed him a bottle of water as he collapsed next to her.

“You realize that video of you doing Dance Dance Revolution is probably on YouTube already, right?” she asked laughingly as he downed half of the bottle of water. He laughed and nodded. “Is that why you disappeared? Being camera shy?” She brushed his curls back from his forehead. Her hand lingered in his hair. She always loved playing with his hair, especially now that it was back to his natural blond. It reminded her of when they had met. It wasn’t nearly as long now, but it was still her favorite color on him. “Who is going to look at me when there is someone as gorgeous as you around?” She meant it to sound flippant, but at the heart of it there was a note of truth. She liked being praised and petted as much, if not more, than the next person. She earned honors in all of her classes, won awards in her activities, and was used to being the most accomplished person in her group of friends; and then her husband had become world famous. She had grown accustomed to doing the initial red carpet walk on Tom’s arm and then waiting around for him as he went back to do interviews and photos and fan service. At least the alcohol and food had gotten better and more plentiful as he had become more famous.

He leaned towards her, somehow managing to look at her earnestly, while simultaneously stroking his head into her hand, silently begging for her to continue playing with his hair. “The first moment I saw you, your beauty struck me to the bone in a moment of breathless delight.”

Anna giggled. “You’re going to quote _Les Mis_ at me?”

A smile teased at the corners of his lips. “Would the madam prefer I woo her in French or English?” He continued leaning in as her lips parted slightly in expectation. A soft sound escaped her mouth, swallowed by him as his lips closed over hers. His hand crept up to wrap around the back her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She wondered what power he had over her body that his touch on her nape sent lava racing through her veins to pool deep in her stomach.

The burst of light from a flash going off broke them apart. Anna could feel the heat rushing through her cheeks as Tom turned towards whoever had taken the picture. “Do you mind?” he asked, exasperation bordering on anger evident in his voice. Even with her eyes closed she could see the flash go off a few more times. She turned towards the photographer, only slightly surprised to see a man with a professional quality camera. This wasn’t a fan. This was a paparazzo. This was the part of her life she hated. The fans were usually wonderful and supportive. The paparazzi on the other hand…she was sure some of them were nice, but there were also ones who had been waiting for her and Tom as they left the hospital.

And then she remembered a picture she had seen in one of the gossip mags she read while getting a pedicure. She grabbed a pen out of her purse and then flipped over the standing advert on the table for some horrific looking rainbow colored dessert. She scrawled a few words and then stood up. Tom looked up at her, wondering what she was doing. She’d tried confronting a photographer once, and it hadn’t ended up well, for her or the camera. He looked surprised when she dropped down on his lap. She wrapped one arm around his neck and said, “Now, kiss me like you mean it,” and held the sign up next to their faces. Still not knowing what was going on, she had to initiate the kiss, but he quickly joined her with enthusiasm. His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her in close. She melted against him, her lips parting under his as his tongue dipped into her mouth. She could hear more than see the pictures being taken. She pulled back, smiled at him, and said, “Let’s go play laser tag.”

He followed her in bemusement. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” She handed him the sign she had made in silent reply. It read simply, “This photographer invaded our date for a quick buck. Please donate a dollar to UNICEF when you look at his pictures to make up for it.  Thanks, Anna  xoxo”.

He looked up at her, laughter shining in his eyes. “You are priceless, you know that?”

“If he’s going to take pictures, we might as well get some good out of it, right? I might have to get some t-shirts made for future dates.” She was being bitchy, but she hated this part of her life, of their life together.

“I love it when you get sassy.” He tugged her close to him. She laughed and pushed him back. “Good, because I’m about to get sassy on your ass.” She waved her laser gun at him and headed into the black-lit arena.

There had to be at least twenty other people in there, but as far as she was concerned, she had one target and one target only. They spent the next hour chasing each other around the room, hiding behind partitions and creeping around barriers. He was surprisingly hard to find for as tall as he was. Tom seemed to be more interested in sneaking up and grabbing her from behind and kissing her than actually shooting her. After almost an hour of running around trying to snipe each other, Tom finally caught her in a corner. He trapped her up against one of the walls with his body, grabbed both of her hands and pinned them above her head. He dropped his head so that his mouth was just a breath away from hers. “What do you say, dearest? Did I win?”

“I don’t know.” She arched her back, rubbing her hips teasingly against him. “How were we keeping score?”

His teeth found her bottom lip. He sucked it into his mouth, worrying it between his teeth and with his tongue until he could feel her shuddering against him. His free hand roamed up her rib cage and palmed her breast through her t-shirt. He could hear her whimper right as a voice came over the loudspeaker, “Please stop making out. We can see you.” Anna started laughing as Tom guiltily let go of her wrists. She rested her head on his chest as she giggled helplessly at getting caught making out like a couple of teenagers.

They finally left the laser arena, holding hands and laughing. Tom said, “There’s one more thing I want to try.” Anna followed him until he stopped in front of a climbing wall. “Race you to the top.” Anna looked up at the wall. Multi-colored hand and toe holds were scattered across the surface. It had to be at least forty feet high, reaching up to the ceiling of the large arcade. Tom didn’t know this, but she was scared of heights. She could make it out on balconies as long as she didn’t look down or get too close to the railing, but this was something entirely different. “Why don’t I just watch you do it?” she asked hesitantly.

“Ah, c’mon, love. It will be fun. They have the harnesses you can use and everything. It’s perfectly safe.” He was practically bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Says the man who is used to being flung through the air on stunt harnesses,” she retorted.

“And I’m still alive,” he reassured her with a laugh. “It will be fun. And this way I get to check out your bum in the climbing gear.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but succumbed to his teasing smile. She always succumbed to his smiles. “Fine.”

A few minutes later, after being strapped in and given a rudimentary safety lesson by someone she thought was alarmingly young, she stood at the base of the wall. She looked up at it towering over head. She thought to herself, “Okay Thompson, little kids do this, so can you. One handhold at a time.”

The first few steps up the wall were easy. After that, she had to remind herself to breathe. About ten feet up, one of her feet slipped off the toehold, but she managed to keep her other three points of contact with the wall long enough to get her foot back in place. She heard Tom calling encouragement to her. She knew there was no way she was going to beat Tom’s time, but she was going to make it to the top regardless. The closer she got to the top, the further apart the holds were placed. The teen who had given her safety instructions said they did this to keep young kids from going too high. She could still reach them, it just was additional pressure as she had to reach further with each movement, and her body was stressed into unnatural positions. She looked up to see how much further she needed to climb. There was at least another fifteen feet. She had thought she was closer to the top than that. She picked out the pattern for the next few movements and got ready to continue climbing.

She reached up and to her left for the next handhold and then her foot slipped. She tried grabbing for the hold but couldn’t quite make it, and she felt herself falling, sliding, her belaying line snapping tight and she grabbed at a hold, her bodyweight painfully jerking her shoulder as she caught herself. She kicked her foot out to the side and found a toehold, and then when her weight was settled on that leg, she repeated the motion to find a toehold with her other foot. She clung to the wall, her breath coming in short shallow gasps.

“Anna, are you okay?” She heard Tom call from down below. She couldn’t get her vocal cords to work. Again the call, “Anna, talk to me.” Again, she tried to say something, but her brain just couldn’t stop freaking out enough to actually speak. Part of her mind was strangely detached from the situation, watching herself start to hyperventilate, little shudders wracking her body as she clung to the wall, the adrenaline slamming into her brain with an incessant need to scream that she had to bite back. Her jaw was clenching, forcing her to breathe through her nose, making the hyperventilating worse. She was going into a full blown panic attack and she didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly, she heard Tom right beside her. “Anna, look at me.” She couldn’t make herself respond. “Please, Anna, just open your eyes. I’m right here. Just look at me, nothing else.”

She slowly opened her eyes and there he was, right next to her. “I’m going to touch your hand now, okay?” he asked quietly. He was trying to look reassuring, but she could see the worried crease between his eyebrows. She blinked, and he gently placed his hand over hers. “Anna, you’re safe. You’re safe, baby, okay? I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He kept up his reassuring babble until her breathing steadied. “We’re going to get you down now, okay?” She nodded, blinking back tears.

“Okay, I’m going to talk you down. I’m going to tell you exactly how to do this. We’re just going to take this one movement at a time. I want you to take your left leg and go down and to the right.”

She didn’t move. “Anna, I need you to just move your leg.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Yes, you can.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are, but you need to trust me. You can do this.” Even with his voice so quiet, he sounded completely confident.

“No, I can’t.”

“Anna, look at me.”

She met his gaze. His eyes had never seemed so blue before. They were wide with concern and love. “Do you trust me?”

She took a deep breath.

“Do you trust me?” he repeated. She realized he wasn’t trying to guilt her into saying yes. He was just reminding her of something she already knew.

She nodded slowly.

“Say it out loud.”

“I trust you.”

He smiled. “Say it again.”

“I trust you.” The barest hint of a smile flickered around her mouth.

“I promise you I am going to keep you safe.”

“Say it again,” she whispered, almost pleading with him.

“I promise you I am going to keep you safe.” His voice was resolute.

She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.”

Anna didn’t know how long it took to get down, but Tom stayed with her for every motion. He told her where to place her hands and feet. He stroked her hand reassuringly every so often. He kept up a running stream of encouragement as she slowly worked her way down the wall. When she finally put her feet on the ground she collapsed, and a silent sob wracked her frame. His fingers had her unbuckled from the harness in a few short seconds, and he pulled her into his lap and held her closely, his long arms wrapped around her back, and he kept murmuring, “You’re safe, I’ve got you. You’re safe.” After several minutes she had calmed to the point where she could finally feel the adrenaline give up its control of her body. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized he hadn’t been wearing any climbing gear. She pointed this out and he simply said, “I had to get to you. I didn’t have to time to harness up.”

“But what if you had fallen? You could have been hurt. Or worse.”

His eyes, those gorgeous eyes that had blocked out the rest of the world while he had rescued her, narrowed slightly as he focused on her worried face. “You needed me. And I promised you that I would always keep you safe. I keep my promises, Anna.” There was no doubt in his voice, no worrying about what might have been. He believed he would always be able to do whatever she needed from him to keep her happy and safe. And she believed it too.


	10. Good News and Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - smut ahead

Tom practically bounced in the front door.  He couldn’t wait to tell Anna the good news. He could hear the shower running and went bounding up the stairs. He burst into their bathroom, and stopped suddenly upon seeing Anna crumpled on the floor of the shower sobbing.

In a moment, he was in the shower next to her, gathering her into his lap. “I’m here, I’ve got you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she continued to cry. He didn’t push her for words, knowing by the tension in her frame that she was still caught in initial grief. As the water started to cool, she slowly stilled in his arms.

Without looking up at him, she spoke. “I lost a patient on the operating table today.”

“Oh love, I am so sorry.”

“He was five.” Her voice broke. “I tried for an hour to get the bleeding to stop, and no matter what I did he just continued to bleed. There was nothing I could do.” She paused as the tears started again. “I had to tell his parents. I have never heard a sound like the one his mother made. I didn’t know a breaking heart made a sound. And the dad just stood there with a stunned look on his face. It was like that moment between when you cut yourself and when you feel the pain. It’s like more than one heart stopped when he died.”

There was a long pause, and then she continued. “I spent the afternoon with legal getting grilled on what happened. They’re preparing for a lawsuit. They took urine and a blood sample to prove I wasn’t on any drugs while operating. Like I would ever do that!”

“What happens to you if the parents sue?”

“The hospital defends me but their main priority is to defend the hospital; that’s why I have malpractice insurance above and beyond what the hospital has. And that’s why I had my practice incorporated, so that if anything happens they can’t get to you and your assets, just mine.” She paused and with a sigh said, “Worst case I lose my license.”

Tom didn’t know what to say so he just held her. After a minute he quietly said, “Come on, let’s get you out of the shower before you catch a chill.”

Anna started, and seemed to just realize that he was in the shower with her, the cold water cascading over them. “Oh, you’re soaking wet!”

He smiled, “I’ll dry.” He helped her to her feet and reached behind him to turn off the water. He opened the glass door to the shower and grabbed a large towel. “Lift your arms.” She did as she was told and he wrapped the towel around her. He kicked off his shoes before he stepped out of the shower.

“At least you weren’t wearing your boots.”

“You’re more important than boots.”

She grabbed another towel from the rack and said, “Come here.”

She reached up to towel dry his hair and he bent forward so she had an easier reach. She rubbed the towel over his hair, finding a small respite from the grief in this simple act of caring. She finished drying his hair and he stood back up. She smiled as his curls stood up in all directions. She reached up and finger combed through them, trying to restore some semblance of order. Tom smiled as he watched her in the mirror. He picked up the towel she had placed on the sink and used it to help dry her hair.

She was standing in the circle of his arms as she finished trying to arrange his hair. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, resting on the wet fabric of his shirt. “We should take this off of you,” she murmured. Tom swallowed and then nodded. Her hands dropped to the hem of his tee and pulled upward, peeling the wet fabric from him. He finished pulling it off over his head and dropped it in the sink. She picked up another dry towel from the counter and started slowing drying off his chest.  Her hands smoothed the fabric down across his abdomen, carefully tracing the planes of his body. She moved back up to his shoulders and then down one arm.

“Turn around.” She continued the slow caress of his body, running the towel over his shoulders and down his back. His shoulders were broader now than when they had met, and he’d put on more muscle training for his roles. She learned his body anew taking time to touch every inch of his back, caressing the strong muscles that flexed under his smooth skin. His personality was just like his body, she thought, smooth and pleasing on the outside, lovely to look at, but with a core of strength underneath that few people noticed.

She placed a small kiss in the center of his back as she finished drying his other arm. She placed the towel on the counter next to her as she reached around his waist to the buckle of his belt.

“Anna.” It was more a breath than a word.

She didn’t say anything but just continued undressing him, the belt buckle and button on his jeans coming undone underneath her fingers. She pulled his zipper down and then hooked her hands into the waistband. She slipped down to her knees, pulling the wet fabric with her until it was down around his ankles. He stepped out of them and then she pulled off his wet socks. He moved to turn around and face her, but she put a hand on his thigh to stop him. She reached for the towel and started at one ankle, drying up his leg to his waist, and then slowly back down the other leg. He was trying to stay still, but she could feel his muscles clenching under the touch.

“Turn around.”

She looked up at him as she started drying him off again. His eyes were dark and heavy lidded as she leisurely worked her way up his leg. She never looked away from him, watching his response to her ministrations. When the fabric brushed against his hardening cock, she saw him bite his bottom lip and smiled. She spent more time than she probably needed to drying him there, but the smile that was playing around the corners of his mouth  as he watched her encouraged her to continue. She finally started down his other leg, and she heard him sigh softly in disappointment.

When she finished she remained kneeling at his feet, gazing up at him. “Can I do anything else for you?”

He stroked her face with one hand, slowly tracing the lines of her nose and jaw. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip and he pushed down slightly. She opened her mouth under the pressure. He slipped two long fingers into her mouth. She suckled at them, her tongue teasing them apart and laving each one individually. As she sucked them into her mouth, she could hear his breath catch; she continued to slide her mouth up and down his fingers as she watched his reaction. He slowly pulled her fingers from her mouth, stroking the wetness across her lips.

She shivered under the weight of his touch and the heat of his gaze. His hand slipped to the back of her head and he gathered her hair in his hand and pulled her gently to her feet. He tugged her towel off and then lifted her so she was sitting on the counter. He pressed against her legs and she parted them for him. He stood between her knees while his hands slid upward from her waist, palming her breasts and then cupping them, his thumbs stroking slow circles over her hardening nipples.  Their eyes were still locked on each other as he drew a small moan of pleasure from her lips. He smiled at the sound and bent to take one taut peak into his mouth. She knew it had been less than week since he had done this, but it felt like it had been forever. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then flew open again as he nipped at her. He transferred his attention to her other breast. Her fingers laced through his hair, holding him to her. He slowly kissed his way up to her neck, his teeth testing the resiliency of her skin over her collarbone. His tongue fluttered into the hollow at the base of her throat, feeling her racing pulse. His mouth was hovering over hers as he slid a hand between her thighs, cupping her moist heat. The little whimpering sound she made brushed against his lips.

He took her mouth, claiming it as his own. His tongue pressed into her mouth and found hers, stroking it, as he slipped a finger into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered to him. His finger stroked slowly in and out of her and she moved her hips forward, desperately seeking more of him. He smiled against her mouth and slipped a second long digit into her. The cry that he swallowed was repeated as his thumb sought out her clit and started circling it softly.

Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs as she wrapped around him, her pelvis rocking in time with his hand. Her breath was growing heavy and shallow as her world narrowed to his hand touching her. Her head fell against his shoulder, and she pleaded, “Tom…”

He smiled at how well he knew her body. He twisted his fingers inside her, finding that one spot that sent her crazy as he increased the pressure on her clit. Her nails bit into his back as she cried his name again. “You like this, love?”

She nodded against him as he stretched his fingers inside her tight heat. She gasped and he did it again. “Do you like knowing how easy it is for me to make you lose control?”  A whimpered ‘yes’ met his ears. His fingers stroked her faster as he whispered in her ear. “You’re mine, and I know how to take care of you.” He flicked his thumbnail against her clit. “No matter what happens out there, in here you are safe,” another flick his thumb, “and loved,” once more “and mine.”

She cried his name as the white heat at her core shattered, sending pleasure rolling through her body like a tidal wave. He continued stroking her as she slowly calmed, his hand slowing as her breath did. Before she was completely recovered, he pulled his fingers from her and picked her up, one arm under her hips, the other around her back. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her into their bedroom and tumbled onto the bed with her. He caught himself with one arm as her back hit the blankets.

“Scoot back,” he whispered against her lips, and she awkwardly pushed herself further back on the bed as he crawled with her, maintaining the kiss. When she stopped, he smiled, “Good girl.” And then he pressed against her, and with one steady movement he pushed inside her. Their groans harmonized as she stretched around him, embracing him with wet silken heat. He pulled almost all the way out and then pushed inside again, savoring the feel of her giving way beneath him. He stilled when he was buried deep inside her warmth and kissed her softly. Her lips parted beneath his, echoing her earlier surrender, and their tongues touched once, twice, and then without number as they embraced each other with lips and tongue and teeth. Soft sounds of pleasure and heavy breathing were the only sounds as their kisses grew more intense. He started to slowly pump into her, and she wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into his ass as she fought to pull him deeper with every thrust.

He continued his slow and steady pace, not giving into her whimpering pleas for him to go faster, thrust harder. He trailed his lips down her face, nipping at her chin, her throat, her shoulder. He could feel her nails digging into his biceps as her hips rocked upward, moving in a primal rhythm with him. She threw her head back as he thrust harder, a guttural sound torn from her throat, which was now more exposed to his lips. He took advantage of her movement to trail the tip of his tongue wetly up to her ear. He whispered, “Do you like this, baby?”

She nodded, her hands moving up to his shoulders and then to his back.

“Do you like me deep inside of you?” he emphasized the word deep with a hard thrust.

“Oh, god yes.”

He shoved himself up to his knees, and hooked her legs over his arms, pushing her legs further apart and back towards her chest, opening her even further to his thrusts. She swore as the new angle of his thrusts sent rivers of heat flooding through her.

“Oh god, Tom.”

His pushed her legs further back, and thrust his thumb into her mouth. She sucked it hard, her tongue twirling around it like it was his cock. He pulled it out of her mouth and she whimpered in disappointment. The noise changed to a cry of delight as he brushed it against her clit. His thumb started circling, wet friction causing her legs to quiver.

“That’s right baby, come for me.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she focused on the assault his body was waging on her nerves. All of her body concentrated on the tension pulling her inexorably towards a cliff of pleasure.

“Open your eyes. I want you to see me as I make you come.” Her eyes flew open. His eyes were fixed on her face, taking in the flush in her cheeks, the lips parted and panting. Anna felt pinned beneath that gaze just as she felt pinned beneath his body. She was completely at his mercy and completely safe and completely loved.

“God, Tom, I love you.”

“I love you, Anna. Now come for me.” It was an order and she obeyed, falling off that cliff into a field of starlight as her vision blurred. Before she had regained her breath, he pulled out and rolled her over onto her stomach. “Up on your knees, baby,” his soft voice was insistent. She struggled to get up on all fours and his firm hand in between her shoulder blades pressed her torso back down to the bed. She felt his other hand run lovingly across her ass. “You are so lovely.” She felt his cock nudge against her wetness and she whimpered.

“You need this, don’t you,” he murmured as he stroked his cock up and down her slick pussy.

She nodded wordlessly against the mattress.

“You need me.”

She nodded again, whimpering, trying to push back against him but his hand on her ass held her in place.

“Say it.”

“I need you, Tom.”

“Say it again.”

“I need you, Tom, please!”

He thrust inside her, hard and deep, her entire body rocking forward under the impact. She cried out and he smiled at the feral little sound. He set a demanding pace, his fingers digging into the curve of her hips like a Bernini statue in the flesh.

“You need me and my big hard cock pounding you into the mattress, don’t you,” he demanded.

“Yes,” she mouthed the word more than said it.

“You’re so strong and in control but when you come home to me, you just want me to take care of you, don’t you?”

“God, yes.”

He leaned forward, letting go of her hips. He rested one forearm across her lower back and with his other hand he grabbed her hair, pulling her head gently up so she had to meet his eyes. He continued pounding into her.

“Who else can do this to you?” he demanded.

“No one.” Her eyes were dilated and glazed in pleasure, but they focused on his.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Just you, Tom.” Her heart was in her eyes and truth was in her words. He gently lowered her head back to the mattress and then slid his now free hand down her neck and across her back. He slid it around her waist and sought out her clit again, stroking it softly, aware of how sensitive it would be after what they had already done.

“That’s right, Anna. Just me. I’m the only one who can love you like this, who knows exactly what you need.”

Anna’s fingers were clawing at the blanket beneath her, trying to stay conscious and cognizant of the stream of words Tom was pouring over her. The contrast between the smooth elegant voice and the naughty words he was saying was as erotic as his hand between her thighs.

“Just let go, Anna, stop fighting it. I am going to fuck you into that mattress until the only thing you can remember is my name because you have been screaming it.”

“Tom…” It sounded like a prayer.

“Come on, sweetness. You know you want to let go. I am going to pound your sweet little pussy until you do, so just give in and let me make you come again.”

“Oh, fuck!” she squealed into the bedding as it hit her hard. She clenched around his thrusting cock but the rest of her body went rigid as her pussy spasmed. Tom thrust once more into her and then spilled his seed, coming deep inside her body.

When she finally could breathe again, Tom sprawled on the bed next to her. He tugged her against him and she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart regain its slow steady rhythm. Their legs tangled together and he stroked her hair gently.

“I’m sorry you had such an awful day.” He was quiet.

“You made it a lot better.” He could feel her smile against his chest.

“I try.”

She wiggled around so she was looking up at him. “I do need you, Tom. Not just your cock, but you. I couldn’t love anyone else the way I love you, and no one else could ever love me the way you do.”

He smiled down at her, not his normal big grin, but the fragile smile of someone who has finally found what they have been looking for and can’t believe it is real. She realized then how much her approval meant to him. It had been years since he had been told that he wasn’t smart enough to get into Cambridge, since he had been passed over for roles because he was too gangly, too young looking, too sweet, but she knew that he still felt like he had to prove himself. He had a core of strength at his center, but at least part of that strength came from her love. She knew that she would always be safe in his arms. Did he know the same thing about her?


	11. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more familiar you are with Tom Hiddleston's works, the more you will appreciate this chapter. Ruth Wilson played Tom's love interest Jewel in Suburban Shootout, and the Olivier award is the British theatre equivalent of the American Tony award.

Anna sat restlessly on the couch. Today was her first day of being placed on administrative leave. The parents were suing the hospital, and so she had been relieved of her responsibilities until a full review could be made. Tom was going to be gone for hours meeting with all sorts of people about _Richard III._ He had been so excited to tell her he had gotten the role only to find her a sobbing mess in the shower. His announcement later that evening had resulted in a round of slightly tipsy celebrating that had left them both a little sore and a lot happy.

Anna looked at the stack of medical journals sitting next to her on the couch. Sighing, she picked up the first one, looked at it, and the put it back down. She just couldn’t deal with double blind peer-reviewed studies right now. As she looked around her living room, wondering what to do now, her eye was caught by a stack of DVDs sitting next to the television. Tom was always getting sent screeners and it looked like there were new ones on the pile from the last time she checked.

Flipping through the pile, she noticed _The Hollow Crown_ sitting by itself. She had never had the time to watch the whole series because Tom hated watching himself on screen, and she rarely watched movies without him, much less a whole miniseries. With a whole day stretching in front of her, this seemed like the perfect time to start. She put the first DVD in the machine, grabbed the remote, and curled up on the couch.

That was how Tom found her several hours later when he got home. She was almost through with _Henry V_ and so enthralled she hadn’t even heard him come in. She startled when he sat down next to her on the couch, but relaxed comfortably in to him when he put his arm around her. They finished watching the movie together, and when it finally concluded, Anna said, “Well, that’s another actress I am going to hate for the rest of my life.”

Tom looked at her quizzically. “You didn’t like her performance?”

Anna laughed. “I thought she was wonderful. But I’m not sure how much acting was involved to fall in love with you in that scene. I think it’s impossible not to fall in love with you when you quote Shakespeare.”

“Was that what did it for you? Was it Posthumus or Cassio that made you fall for me?” He gave her a sexy grin.

“No. I had fallen for you way before those play, though watching you with that sword always got me hot and bothered,” she answered with her own lascivious smile.

“So what was it that made you fall in love with me?” he asked, a mixture of cockiness and curiosity evident in his voice.

She paused. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

He pulled her into his lap. She loved how he was able to just move her around so easily. He looked her right in the eyes and quietly said, “No laughter, I promise.”

She looked down at her lap, and he covered her hands with one of his. Without looking up, she murmured? “Did I ever tell you that I watched the reruns of Suburban Shootout before we told each other we were in love? I used it to tide me over between your visits.”

 “You never told me that.”

She looked up at him. “I was fascinated by the disconnect between that sweet innocent face on the telly and what you would do with that mouth when we were together.”

He chuckled.  “And now that I am getting old, do I still fascinate you?”

“First, you are not old. Because if you’re getting old then I’m getting old, and I refuse to be old,” she said emphatically though she was smiling. “And, second, I realized six years ago that I would never be bored with you. You were capable of being every hero from every book I ever read. You continue to captivate me in everything that you do. I loved you as Bill,” she lightly kissed him on the lips, “as Oakley,” a kiss on the cheek, “as Edward,” on the chin, “as Cassio and Christian and Magnus and William,” she continued naming off characters he had played, interspersing each one with a kiss. “And I think you were absolutely brilliant as Prince Hal and have surpassed Olivier and Branaugh as Henry V. And I can’t wait to celebrate with you when you win an Olivier for _Richard III.”_

“Sweetness, we haven’t even gone into rehearsals yet,” he protested, but he was smiling bashfully at the praise. He really was as self-deprecating in person as he seemed in his interviews, which she always found adorable.

“Yes, but I know you, and what you’re capable of, and there isn’t anyone out there that can beat what you can do with Shakespeare. I know that as much as I know that if I ever see Ruth Wilson in person, I will kick her in the _adductor longus_.”

His laughter echoed back from the ceiling. “You’re such a possessive little wench, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am.”

“Good.” And he stood, threw her over his shoulder and carried her off to the bedroom, their laughter trailing behind them.

 


	12. One Day at a Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m playing a bit fast and loose with real-world timelines here. Also, repairing a relationship isn’t a one-time event. It’s a daily living of commitment. That influenced the way this chapter is written.

She knew something was up because of his smile. The “I’m trying not to grin so my smile is just a thin line that stretches from ear to ear accompanied by big bright shiny eyes that really have no business being on a man my age because they belong to a child on Christmas morning” smile. 

“What are you planning, Thomas?” she asked him, as he tugged her into the living room and pushed her onto the sofa. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television, tuning into the last few minutes of a news programme on the BBC. “Why are we watching this?”

 

“Just wait.” He was practically bouncing in his seat next to her. The story ended and [a commercial came on](http://youtu.be/-_LVeODYFe8). “Tom, that’s you!” she said, before falling silent. By the end of the forty-five seconds, she had the biggest smile on her face. She threw her arms around his neck. “Tom, that’s fantastic!”

 “Well, I’m successful enough now,” he looked embarrassed when he said it, “that I get to do serious stuff like this now.”

She realized again how much her attack on his character had hurt him, and how much he needed her approval.

“As wonderful of an actor that you are, you’re an even better person.”

*

She was still asleep as Tom finished getting ready. He had an early morning meeting before heading to a full day of rehearsals. He brushed his fingers along her cheek softly, thinking she still looked beautiful even with her hair messed up and her makeup smeared from falling into bed with him instead of washing her face the night before.

Her eyes opened slowly in response to his touch. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, too.” A slight smile crossed her lips as her eyelids closed again.

*

“Really? You’re going to go to the screening with me?”

“I thought I would, if that’s okay.”

“You hate these things.”

“I love you more.”

*

Tom had come and gone while she was in surgery. The only sign of his passing was the dozen orange gerbera daisies on her desk and the big smiles on the faces of everyone else in the department.

*

Text from Anna, 2 pics attached

“Which of these do you think I should wear under my dress tonight?”

Text from Tom

“I don’t care which you wear on the red carpet, but either way, they are on our carpet as soon as we get home.”

*

“So, I read this article in  _Cosmo_  about sex positions you have to try. Want to give number three a go?” Anna handed Tom the magazine, folded back to the correct page. She watched his face as he first saw the name, and then read the description. First one eyebrow lifted and then both.  His eyes widened and his mouth formed an O of interest. “I’m game if you are.”

Forty five minutes later they were both lying flat on their backs in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Well,” said Tom, “that was…” his voice trailed off as he searched his extensive vocabulary for an appropriate descriptor.

“Awkward?” suggested Anna.

“I was going to go with ‘different’.”

Anna giggled, and that set off Tom’s infectious laugh. Soon they were both laughing so hard they had tears rolling down their faces.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that particular look on your face before,” Tom commented once they had stopped laughing.

“Which one, the ‘I’m not sure where my leg is supposed to go’ face or the ‘if he slips we’re going to fall off the bed’ face?

“Either.”

She laughed. “Okay, Mr. Yoga, you get to pick the next one.”

“Deal.”

*

She smiled up at Tom as he answered another interviewer’s question. The trip down the red carpet was taking even longer than she wanted, but she had figured out the trick to enjoying the interminable parade of identical questions: watching Tom.

His endless enthusiasm, appreciation and enjoyment of the time spent with fans always overflowed on to her and made these events easier to appreciate. At some point in the last few months it had finally dawned on her that these red carpets and press events with fans were like her talking to the parents of her patients after surgery. It wasn’t the most important part of the job, but seeing the gratitude made the long hours spent in operating rooms and sound stages a little more worth it. She’d started to understand how much he meant to his fans, how much his public persona of boundless optimism and compassion had affected real people. She still got a little jealous periodically, but she had gotten better at understanding this was an important facet of his job to him, and not just something he did to luxuriate in his own fame.

Her mobile vibrated in her handbag. She stepped back from Tom and fished out the device. If she had set it correctly, the only reason her phone would be vibrating would be an emergency. She looked down and saw the 999 message flashing from the hospital. Luke was giving her the evil eye – why are you taking a call on the carpet? – but she dialed the hospital back to find out what was going on. A minute later she took Tom by the elbow. Apologizing profusely to the interviewer, she explained that she needed to borrow her husband for thirty seconds. She tugged him back out of range of the microphones and hurriedly explained that there had been a multiple vehicle accident involving two school busses of children on a field trip and that they were calling in all available personnel to deal with the injured. “I have to go, there’s multiple children coming in with severe injuries and they are swamped.”

“I understand. Do you need Luke to bring you clothes?” She was wearing a rather spectacular dress and a pair of Louboutins that added four inches to her height. She shook her head. “I keep spares in my locker at the hospital. I love you. And congratulations.”  

“Congratulations? For what?”

“For winning tonight. I know they haven’t announced it yet, but I’m positive you’re going to win.” She raised her face and he gave her a kiss that left her breathless, his hand cupping her face with his long fingers in her hair, completely unaffected by the barrage of flashbulbs and catcalls his actions elicited. “I love you, too.” Luke ushered her off to a waiting cab and then hurried back to Tom.

Twenty-three hours later she walked in the front door of her house. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and sleep for the next week. The house was quiet – she had no idea what Tom’s schedule was for the day – so she headed up the stairs, took a quick shower and then collapsed on to the bed. When she woke up the clock said 7:30am. She could tell by the state of the bed that Tom had been there at some point but she had no memory of him either coming to bed or leaving again.

Her mouth tasted like something had died in it and her eyes were gritty and dry. She stumbled into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and then wandered down stairs looking for coffee. Tom was sitting at the dining table reading one of the scripts that were a constant fixture on the table while eating breakfast.

“Good morning sleepyhead.”

She just groaned and reached for a mug. Tom came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing up her neck to her ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry. I can’t remember the last time I ate.”

“Go sit. I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes and most of a cup of coffee later, Tom put a plate of toast and eggs in front of her. She smiled at him and set to eating. Once she was done eating Tom smiled at her. “How did things go?”

“I lead on three surgeries, scrubbed in on four others. Luckily most of them were minor injuries but there was one with a ruptured intestine and one with a fractured femur. We didn’t have anyone die at the hospital though. All the fatalities were at the scene of the accident. But we’re going to have twenty some-odd kids in the hospital today in recovery.”

“Do you have to head back in to work?”

“In a few hours. I don’t have any more surgeries but I have rounds and paperwork to do.”

“Then you should probably see this.” He pulled a newspaper out from under a stack of scripts and handed it to her. She looked at the lead story, coverage of the accident. “Why do I need to see this,” she asked but then she saw a photo of Tom kissing her goodbye on the red carpet with the caption ‘From Silk to Scrubs.’ What followed was a fluff piece about her having to leave the awards ceremony to go do surgery because of the accident, and Tom’s award acceptance speech in which he had thanked her for her love and support, explained her early departure, and asked for prayers for the victims and their families. They had even found a picture of her in scrubs from somewhere to flesh out the story.

“Seriously? I’m on the front page of the paper?” Tom didn’t say anything, he just handed her another newspaper. “The surgeon in sequins? Really?” She cringed.

“Luke’s had calls from four magazines who want to do interviews with the two of us. Something about ‘a doctor and a gentleman’?” She couldn’t tell by the smile on his face if he thought this was hysterical or horrible.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I am never going to live this down.”

The sequined surgical mask sitting on her desk when she got to work was just the start.

She was filling out evening orders at the nurses’ station when a familiar voice behind her caused her to turn around. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought maybe some of your patients would like a bedtime story.” He nodded towards the elevator. She looked over and saw Ben, Martin, and Amanda standing in a group chatting and trying to look inconspicuous.

She grinned. “Come on, you guys can do final rounds with me.”

*

They had agreed to one of the interviews. Luke had picked her clothes, and professionals had done her hair and makeup. She was still nervous. But then the interviewer started by asking her what it was like being married to one of the most gorgeous sought after actors in the world.

“Well, I’m not. I mean, he is one of the most gorgeous sought after actors in the world, but I’m married to my best friend. What he does for a living is amazing, but I would love him if he were a librarian or a teacher or a chemist. The last few years have been really incredible for his career, and that’s meant sacrifices for both of us of our time together, and we’ve had to learn to adjust from him doing West End shows or the BBC where we could still be together regularly to him being in Iceland or New Mexico for weeks on end, but what I have learned is that if I focus on his job, I forget about him. He’s this amazing person with a core of compassion and optimism and love for the arts, and watching him create characters that people are still going to be talking about fifty years from now is truly inspiring. And so while I miss him when he is gone, the beauty that he adds to the world, and to my life, and to the life of so many other people is worth it.”

She looked over at Tom to see his reaction to what she had said. His smile lit up his entire face and as he leaned in to kiss her she could see tears glistening in his eyes.

She turned back to the interviewer who looked like she had just melted a little from the sweetness, and added, “Also, the ‘welcome home sex’ is phenomenal.”

The rest of the interview was much easier.

*

He was fantastic as Richard III. Anna knew he would be, but watching him actually perform on opening night had blown her away. She had run lines with him enough that she almost had the play memorized, but seeing him breathe life into the text was awe-inspiring. The standing ovation at the end of the night was completely deserved.

Tom was still buzzing with energy when they finally made it home a few hours after the show ended. As soon as the front door closed behind them, he shoved her up against it, his body hard against hers. His mouth was hungry on hers as he pulled up the hem of her skirt. Her hands were undoing the fly on his trousers when he realized she wasn’t wearing any knickers.

“Mmmm, naughty girl,” he growled against her neck.

“I remember how you are on opening night,” she laughingly replied and then groaned as he pushed inside her. 

His performance on stage wasn’t the only thing that earned him applause that night.

*

Tom stirred in his sleep. She was watching his face in the light filtering in from the windows.  She’d gotten spoiled over the last several months of him being home every night and waking up to him every morning. His hair stood out in all directions on his pillow. She knew this was the last night they would be together for the next six weeks, and the last time she would see those blond curls for who knew how long. His hair would be cropped short and dyed for this new role. She reached out and gently ran her fingers through his hair, treasuring these last few minutes with him before the alarm rang. She traced the line of his cheekbone. She could tell already that he was losing weight for this role. He still had about another five kilos to lose. His weight change was always most evident in his face, but she had seen the changes throughout his body.

His eyes fluttered open and she smiled at the warmth in them as he saw her. “It’s rare you’re awake before me,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just savoring my last moments with you.”

“We’ll talk every day. And Skype as much as we can,” he reached out and stroked her hair back from her face.

“I know, but it’s not quite the same. Even if I put the phone on vibrate,” she giggled.

He rolled over and pinned her beneath him. “Well, then, let me give you something to remember me by.”

It wasn’t enough. It was never enough when she knew he would be leaving. But it would have to do.

*

She made it three weeks before she booked a plane ticket. She’d called in favors to give her five days off in a row. She didn’t tell Tom, choosing instead to surprise him. An intercontinental flight, a connection and a taxi cab later she was standing in front of the flat the production had rented for him. A PA from the film was standing there with a spare key. The director knew she was coming and had even said she’d try to get Tom’s shooting done as early as possible.

Anna let herself in. The place was nice but impersonal, a standard corporate lease. She dragged her carryon down the hall to what she expected was the bedroom. She kicked off her shoes and laid down on the bed. Her head rolled to one side and she saw a framed photo of herself on the nightstand. She had no idea he travelled with that. She was intending to change into a scandalously bare nightgown before Tom got back, but the jet lag got to her and instead she woke up to him kissing her.

“Well, now I understand why all my costars didn’t feel like doing anything tonight.”

“I hope you feel like doing something tonight,” she raised an eyebrow teasingly.

“Well, I definitely feel like doing someone.” His eyebrow was as expressive as hers.

*

“UNICEF wants me to do another trip for them.”

“Do you want some company?”

*

The oppressive heat was the first thing she had noticed, and the main thing she hadn’t gotten used to in the days they had been there. Travelling with Tom was different than her trips with Doctors without Borders. Here they were mostly listening and learning rather than providing medical care, but Anna found herself treating children and mothers for minor ailments along the way with supplies donated by DWB. The big difference was being out in the countryside rather than in a medical facility. Tom had been right – his experience had been vastly different than hers.

One of the last evenings in country she was sitting next to a woman from the village they were visiting. Everyone had gathered for a festive evening together, but now, people were breaking apart into small groups and talking quietly.

“Your husband is wonderful with the children here,” she commented, watching Tom playing games with several of the local youngsters.

Anna smiled. “He really is. It helps that he’s a child at heart.”

“Do you have children of your own?”

A flash of pain crossed Anna’s face at the question. “No. I was pregnant but we lost the baby. We’ve started trying again, but we haven’t had any success yet.”

The woman smiled. “You keep trying. With a man that handsome, trying is the fun part, no?”

Anna laughed. “It is fun. But I’m not getting any younger, and we both want more than one, so some times it is hard not to worry.” Anna was surprised at her comfort in discussing such a personal matter with a virtual stranger. There was something about the older woman that made such confessions easy, though.

“You come with me,” the old woman said and stood. Anna followed her to a humble house on the edge of the village. The woman opened a small chest and took out a necklace made of shells and seeds. She placed it around Anna’s neck. “The shell is for the woman, because she provides a home for the baby to grow. The seed is for the man, because he must plant it within the woman. These have been blessed and have brought many babies to the women who have worn them. I give them to you to thank you and your husband for the help you have brought to the babies of this village.”

Tom and Anna made love that night under the protective cover of the mosquito nets, with the sound of cattle lowing in the distance. Anna wore the necklace and nothing else.

*

Anna was stretched out on the bed, exhaustion a regular companion these days. Tom was lying next to her, his hand laying protectively over the barely perceptible swell of her belly. The radio was playing in the background as they were listening to the nominations for the Olivier Awards being announced.  Best Actor would be one of the last nominations announced, so she was partly listening to Tom respond to the other nominations while letting her mind drift aimlessly.

Her attention snapped back when she heard the announcer say “And now, the nominations for Best Actor.” Luckily for her nerves and for Tom’s, his name was the first one announced. His whoop of joy left her ears ringing and she laughed as he jumped to his feet in an impromptu celebratory dance.

“Congratulations, love. You deserve it.”

A few happy minutes later, he drew back from kissing her and said, “What about Olivier?”

“What about Olivier for what?”

“As a name.”

“No.” She rejected the suggestion out of hand.

“Come on, it would be a fantastic name.”

“He would get footballs kicked at his head,” she retorted.

He didn’t say anything for about thirty seconds, and then she saw a mischievous grin start to spread across his face.

“What about –” but she cut him off.

“No, we’re not naming it Oscar either.”

He laughed. “Spoil sport.”


	13. Hep Locks and Hemsworth

“Sweetness, how much weight have you lost?” he asked his first evening home as he lay in bed next to her. His normal enthusiastic welcome home had crashed to a halt when his hand on her breast had made her grimace, and then she had gagged and ran for the loo. He had settled for stretching out on the bed next to her. He had tugged her shirt up and the waistband of her pajama pants down so he could admire the slight curve of her belly. His hand rested on her stomach. There was still barely any sign she was showing, but the slight swell was made more noticeable by her weight loss.

“Seven or eight kilos,” she murmured quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“Which is it, seven or eight?”

“How should I know?”

“Anna, I know you. I would be surprised if you didn’t know down to the gram how much weight you’ve lost.”

There was a long silence.  She finally whispered, “Nine.”

“You’ve lost nine kilos in the last month?” He was flabbergasted.

“It’s been six weeks,” she responded defensively.

“That can’t possibly be healthy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she spat out, and immediately felt guilty for lashing out at him. He was so concerned about her, about the baby, and she was treating him like shit. She took a deep breath and then pulled up the long sleeve of the shirt she was wearing and showed him the underside of her forearm. There was an enormous bruise, the blackish purple of a ripe plum, bigger than her fist.

His jaw dropped in shock. “Anna, what happened?” He took her arm carefully in his hand, wincing in sympathy just looking at it.

“Bad IV stick. They wouldn’t let me start my own IV and then they blew the vein.”

“Why did you need an IV?” His forehead wrinkled in shock and concern as he looked from her arm back up to her face.

“I passed out at work a few days ago. Luckily I wasn’t in surgery, but they wouldn’t let me go home until they got some fluid and nutrients in me.”

“Well good for them. At least somebody has some sense around here.” He was suddenly mad at her. Mad for risking her own health. Mad for risking the baby. Mad that he had been away from them when he was needed.

“Oh, like you haven’t ever pushed yourself too hard on set. I’ve seen you bruised and battered. I’ve seen what you put your body through,” she shot back. She pulled her arm away from him and pushed herself up off the bed.

“That’s never endangered anyone else, though. And it’s my job. You don’t have to be pushing yourself so hard,” he insisted.

“Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I liked spending the last 48 hours in a hospital bed? Do you think I liked begging my colleagues to let me out so I can be home when you get back so you don’t have to come see me lying there helpless? Do you think I like vomiting up every single thing I eat or drink for six weeks straight? Hell, Thomas, do you think I like being abso-fucking-lutely helpless and knowing that there isn’t a single damn thing I can do about it except wait and pray that it ends?”

He stood and walked to her. “Come here, darling.” He tried to take her in his arms to calm her down.

“Don’t patronize me!” She pushed him away and stalked out of the bedroom. Tom followed her as she hurried down the stairs.

“Anna, I’m not patronizing you.”

“Oh sweet little girl, let me calm you from your hormone addled insanity by calling you the same name I call all my hysterical fangirls.” She mimicked his voice almost perfectly, though even as Freddy he had never heard it drip so much venom.

“What is going on? I’m not treating you like you’re crazy. I’m concerned about you. You’re pregnant. You can’t keep your food down. You spent the last two days in a hospital and didn’t tell me and I swear to god if you keep something like that from me again, I will turn you over my knee, I don’t care if you’re nine months along, do you hear me?”

She did hear him. She heard the concern morph into rage at her keeping information from him. She nodded, her irritation at him fading away. He took her face in her hands. “You are the most important thing in my life and if anything happened to you,” his voice choked and his jaw clenched as he fought his emotions, “dammit, Anna, you can’t start pulling away from me again. Not now. Not after everything has gotten so much better.”

“You need to be a jerk now, or I’m going to cry, and I can’t keep down enough fluid to have it leaking needlessly out my eyeballs.” She sniffled and tried to smile.

“Come here,” he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against his chest. Her arms were pinned between their chests and she was held immobile against him. She relaxed for the first time in a month knowing she didn’t have to face things alone for the next while. Even vomiting wouldn’t be so bad with Tom holding back her hair for her, she told herself.

He pressed gentle kisses against her temple. “I’ve got you, and we’ll get through this together.”

“There’s something I should show you,” she murmured against his neck after a long while.

“What’s that?”

She gingerly pulled up her other sleeve and showed him the medical tape that was wrapped around several inches of her forearm. “It’s my IV port. I had them put in a hep lock so I could come home. I have to go back in the morning and get more fluids and nutrients. And I have to do that once a day until I can keep food down for twenty four hours.”

“How long does this last usually?” Tom asked her, looking away from the bandages, not wanting to think about the needle underneath it.

“Morning sickness usually lets up around twelve or thirteen weeks, so another week or two. Some people have it their whole pregnancy though.”

“Well, we’ll hope you’re one of the lucky ones, okay?” He smiled down at her, that reassuring smile she had missed so much.

Tom took her to the hospital the next morning and they snickered through the awkward morning news shows together while she was on the IV. They went back home after that. Anna was wary of being too far away from a clean place to be sick. It was enough just to be together after a month apart. Between her pregnancy-induced exhaustion and his jet lag, they ended up snuggled together in bed for a nap. Tom woke before Anna did and managed to extricate himself without waking her. He smiled down at her sleeping form, snoring softly in the dim light.

Anna woke a few hours later, but laid groggily in bed. She hadn’t felt fully alert in weeks. The sound of the front door shutting caused her to sit up. “Tom?” she called warily. She could hear him bounding up the stairs two at a time. He burst into the room. His level of energy was almost offensive, like he was rubbing it in. He came over to the edge of the bed and plopped himself down next to her.

“What’s in the bag?”

He dumped the contents on the duvet. “I did a little research on cures for nausea and thought I would pick up a few.”

She looked at the plethora of items littering the bed. “A few?” 

His mouth quirked up at one corner. “Well, maybe I bought everyone I could find. The maternity store had quite an array of options.”

“You went to a maternity store?”

“Yes.”

“Did you go in disguise?”

“No, why…Oh.”

“Yeah, you should call your parents before they find out from somewhere else.” She grinned. They had planned on waiting until after they got out of the first trimester to tell anyone, but close enough. “And I should call mine.”

For the next week Tom accompanied her every morning to the hospital. They would stop on the way and get two cups of coffee, one for Tom to drink and one for Anna to smell. The aroma of coffee was one of the few things she found that could settle her stomach. She had decided to stay on leave until she didn’t have to worry about being sick on a patient, and so she had a lot of time to spend at home with Tom.

Tom was sitting at the table signing stacks of photos that Luke had dropped off that morning and she was lying on the couch, halfheartedly sucking on one of the ginger lollies that Tom had bought her. She was trying to decide if it actually helped or if she was finally getting over the constant urge to vomit when Tom’s mobile rang.

“Chris!”

“Hey, man!”

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“I could never get sick of my brother from another mother.” Chris had tried that line out in a press conference for  _Thor_  once and it had cracked up Tom so much that the moniker had stuck. In fact, Tom’s laughing was ringing out loud and cheerful as ever. Even after seven years it still made her smile.

“Where are you now? Back in Australia?”

“Yeah, have a few weeks before the next project starts and I’m spending as much time as I can with Elsa and India.”

“How’s things with the family?”

“Fantastic! I got India a tiny surfboard.”

“You’ll need to send me some new pictures.”

Anna giggled to herself. Tom was one of the few grown men she knew who actually cared about other peoples’ kids.

“Speaking of pictures, that’s why I’m calling.”

“You need a new one of me? I’m signing stacks right now.”

“I think I still have thirty or forty from the last time you foisted them off on me.” They both laughed.

“Honestly, though, man,” Chris continued, “is everything okay?”

She could tell Tom was puzzled at this turn in the conversation by the change in his voice. “Everything’s great. Why?”

“Elsa was at the salon and was reading one of those gossip mags while she was getting whatever it was done,” he started. Tom broke in, “Admit it, man, you were getting a manicure,” he teased.

“Tom, quit deflecting.” Anna had never heard Chris sound so serious. “Is Anna sick?”

“What?” Tom sounded startled and Anna tensed, waiting to hear what Tom would say.

“There was a picture of the two of you at some park and…she looks ill. Like, she’s lost a lot of weight. Like anorexic or…cancer.”

Anna heaved. She knew that the weight loss had left her looking gaunt, but hearing someone on another continent confirm it was disheartening.

“She’s pregnant, Chris.”

“What?” Chris sounded stunned. “Really?”

“Yes. She’s got  _hyperemesis gravidarum,”_ Anna swooned a little inside as he pronounced it in his perfect Cambridge-educated Latin, “and she hasn’t been able to keep anything down for weeks and the baby’s just taking every ounce it needs out of her flesh.”

“Christ, is she going to be okay?” The concern in his voice caused Anna to tear up a little. One of the things she never got over was how much Chris loved his friends.

“Yes, they’ve been giving her IV fluids and calories for the last week or so. She’s finally starting to put some weight back on.”

“Is the baby going to be alright?”

“Yes. Apparently babies get first dibs at the buffet line. That’s why she’s lost so much weight. I tell you, I am glad I am not a woman. It’s hard enough watching her go through this. I can’t imagine having to actually be the one that ill. She actually passed out at work and they hospitalized her while I was shooting. She didn’t even tell me until I got home.” She could hear residual anger in his voice.

“If you need someone to come sit on her, I can come help. I’ve got some brothers I can volunteer.”

Tom laughed. “No, she knows better now.”

“He threatened to spank me,” Anna yelled.

“You minx, have you been listening this whole time?” She popped her head over the back of the couch and saw the grin on his face as Chris’s laughter rang out.

“It’s not my fault you forget where I am.” She stuck her tongue out at Tom.

“Congratulations you two, I’m happy for you both, especially after last time.” Chris had been one of the few people that Tom had cried in front of about the miscarriage. He was also one of the few people who knew how bad things had gotten for them afterwards.

“Thanks, Chris,” Anna responded.

“I have to go, but I’ll call you back some time with stories of all the fun things you have to look forward to, Tom. Pregnancy is an adventure.”

Tom laughed. “I can only imagine.”

“Love you guys.”

“Love you, too.” Tom replied.

Anna smiled at him and he got up and walked over to her. “I didn’t forget where you were, I just thought you were sleeping.”

“Nice try, Tom. You totally forgot I was here,” she teased.

He stepped over the back of the couch – she forgot sometimes how long his legs were until he pulled a stunt like that – and somehow managed to gracefully stretch himself out alongside her. It must be all the yoga he did, she thought.

“I could never forget you,” he responded as he gazed at her face.

Anna felt her eyes fill with tears. “Stupid hormones,” she muttered as she wiped them away.

“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. He didn’t want to nag her but he knew she would be honest with him in a way she wouldn’t necessarily be with people at the hospital.

“I haven’t thrown up today yet, so that’s a new record.”

He smiled. “Good. I hope you keep it up. Or down, as the case may be.” She giggled and his grin was like sunlight.

“Hey, touch my boob,” she said suddenly.

“What?” He sounded startled by the change in topic.

“Touch my boob.”

Looking confused, he poked her breast.

She laughed. “Not like that, silly. Like you mean it.”

He slowly slid his hand over her breast, searching her face for any sign of pain. He squeezed lightly and a smile crept across her face. Encouraged, he pulled up her shirt so that her bra was showing. Her breasts had already gone up at least one size, and they swelled above the lime colored cups. He pulled her bra down and softly brushed his thumb across the nipple. She gasped softly, but it was a happy sound, not a painful one. He repeated the motion and she arched upwards towards his hand. Smirking, he lowered his head and sucked the peak into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it. He felt her hands grab his head, but she didn’t pull him away, she just held him against her. He suckled her slowly but firmly, not wanting to put too much pressure or use his teeth in case it was too much, but the little noises she was making encouraged him to continue. He moved his head to her other breast, his hand caressing the one he had just left. He kissed and licked and sucked at her breast like a man deprived. They’d managed to have sex once since he had been home, but it was more like an act of endurance for Anna rather than anything she had enjoyed. Tom had practically felt guilty afterward, and they had mutually agreed to wait until she was feeling better. But it seemed now she was, at least to the point where his touch wasn’t physically painful.

“I’ve missed this,” she whispered, as his tongue flicked against her nipple. “Me too.” He mouthed the words against her breast, not willing to relinquish his contact with the swollen flesh. “Do you want to maybe,” her voice was hesitant, “take this upstairs?”

He stood and scooped her into his arms, practically before she finished the question. He set her down gently at the edge of the bed and they made quick work of each other’s clothes. She laid down carefully on her side and he stretched out behind her. He slid a hand slowly from her waist to the cleft of her thighs, stroking her softly, feeling her release her wet heat on his fingers, as his mouth moved gently against her neck. She propped her calf up on his. “Thomas, please,” she begged quietly, and he slowly pushed inside her. She groaned as he claimed her. It had been so long since her body had given her pleasure instead of misery, but here she was, back in Tom’s arms again and she felt like her life made sense, like her body made sense.

She reached back her hand to clasp his head, feeling his hair between her fingers. He whispered heated words in her ear, punctuating them with licks and bites as he moved slowly in and out of her, his fingers circling her clit. She was so sensitive that it didn’t take long for her to climax, her nails digging into his scalp. Tom continued his thrusting, gaining urgency as he pushed deeper and deeper inside her. She moved with him, pushing her hips back against his thrusts, taking him deeper and deeper inside her. With a shuddering cry, he came, hot and pulsing inside her.

When she heard his breathing return to normal, she turned so she was facing him. His hair was all awry, but he had a contented smile on his face.

“I think I might survive this pregnancy after all,” she said, and her smile matched his.


	14. Mood Swings

The constant nausea had been replaced by food cravings. Curries at two in the morning.  Chocolate ice cream all the time. And she used to love seafood but now she couldn’t stand it. It just tasted weird, like it had gone slightly off. Honestly, though, she was just glad she was eating and keeping it down finally. She hadn’t thrown up in a week so she had agreed to go with Tom to the Olivier Awards now that she wasn’t worried about vomiting all over the red carpet.

Of course, now she had to find a dress with less than two days’ notice. The weight loss combined with a slight belly and her bountiful pregnancy breasts had meant she didn’t even know her own size much less what would look good on her body anymore. Luckily for her, she happened to be married to a world famous gorgeous actor, which meant she had a little easier time shopping than most people did. One call to Luke who worked his magic and a rack of designer gowns in various styles and sizes showed up to her house. She ran her fingers along the expensive dresses and smiled. Of course, before she tried on the dresses, she had to find the right lingerie to go under it, and that was a task she was not going to trust to Luke, which meant Saturday morning she got dressed to go underwear shopping.

Tom was sitting at the kitchen table reading scripts – she wondered when the last time was that he had read anything else – and she kissed him on the cheek. He slipped his fingers into her hair and held her there for a moment. “I’m going shopping. Is there anything you want me to get for you while I’m out?”

“Where are you going?”

“To buy a bra that fits.”

He stood up. “I’ll come with you.”

She laughed. “You don’t need to come with me.”

“I can help. Give you a second opinion on how they look.” He looked at her with puppy dogs eyes, a smile toying around the corner of his lips.

“They?” She responded, trying – and mostly failing – to keep an answering smile from taking over her face. “Are you wanting to give your opinion on bras or on my breasts?”

“Can I choose all of the above?” He stroked his hands lovingly across her chest, cupping her breasts in his hands. “They are so particularly magnificent these days. I never really considered myself a breast man, but you. look. delicious. They’re like perfect summer,” he started waxing poetic.

She put a finger against his lips. “I’ll let you come if you promise not to compare me to fruit.”

He kissed her finger. “I promise.”

“And you have to keep your hands – and the rest of yourself – to yourself.”

“Awwww,” he pouted and she had to keep herself from biting his bottom lip. The vomiting hadn’t just been replaced by an insatiable appetite for food, her exhaustion had been replaced by an insatiable appetite for Tom. Or, to be quite honest, for orgasms. It was quite remarkable how easy it was to get herself off, something she was going to appreciate when Tom left for his next project in a few weeks.

“Do you promise?” She arched one eyebrow at him, trying her best to look stern.

“I promise,” he responded reluctantly.

She looked from his eyes down to her chest, where his hands were still mindlessly kneading her breasts. He smiled bashfully and dropped them slowly. She smiled up at him. “You also might want to go put on some trousers.”

An hour later she was being shown into a dressing room at a lingerie boutique. The attendant, a matronly looking woman, had stationed Tom on a comfortable chair in the small room that served as the hub off of which the three dressing rooms opened, and then followed her into the dressing room to take new measurements. Her band size had stayed the same size, but she had gone up two full cup sizes.  The woman promised to be right back, and let herself out of the room. Anna stood there in her jeans, waiting for the old lady to come back. When she finally did, Anna found her boobs being manhandled with a clinical impassivity that she admired from a professional perspective. Once the woman had assured herself that Anna had been appropriately sized, she inquired what kind of brassieres she was looking for.

“Something strapless for under a gown. Three or four practical yet pretty bras, and then I’ll have my husband pick out some things for me.”

The woman left again, and Anna stuck her head out the dressing room door. She crooked a finger at Tom who pushed himself up from the overstuffed chair he was lounging in. He took the few steps across the room, pausing right in front of her. He lowered his face until he was an inch away from her mouth. “Can I get you something, sweetness?”

She looked at his lips and bit her own bottom lip as she felt a surge of temptation. She actually leaned in a hair’s breadth before she caught herself. She stepped back from him, swallowing against the sudden dryness in her mouth. “Why don’t you pick out something for me to model for you?”

His smile was almost predatory. “Your wish is my command.”

She had tried on three different strapless bras and settled on a beige one since she didn’t know yet what color dress she would be wearing. Normally designer gowns had enough structure in them that bras weren’t necessary, but then again, most formal gowns weren’t designed to support the breasts that she currently possessed and she lived in fear of a wardrobe malfunction. The last thing she needed was for her colleagues to see a nip slip on the telly. Or her grandmother.

By the time she was trying on the pretty bras, Tom was back in the chair waiting for her. She opened the dressing room door, checked to make sure no one was looking and then stepped out in front of him. She was sporting a purple silk number with a deep plunge and heavily embroidered cups. “What do you think?”

He smiled. “I think you look lovely.”

She held up the matching thong in front of her hips. “Do you think I should get this to go with it?”

He took a deep breath, imagining the thin scrap of fabric being the only thing she was wearing. “Definitely.” He sounded a little hoarse, and she had to fight back a smile.

She repeated this several more times, pretty sexy bras and fun sporty ones, each with a different matching panty. Thongs, cheeky pants, lace, a little cotton number that said ‘it’s not going to spank itself’ across the ass.

He enjoyed all of them, and she watched him get more and more frustrated as she modeled each new bra. He had always loved her bum, and the combination of her new curves up top combined with his vivid imagination of what she would look like in the new knickers was doing a number on his self-control.

After she tried on the last bra, she asked if he had found anything he wanted her to model, and he handed her a beautiful silk nightgown. Slightly surprised by the tastefulness of his choice, she returned to the dressing room to try it on. She sighed softly as the soft fabric slipped against her skin. The teal silk morphed into a peacock striated fabric that gathered into one strap over her left shoulder, leaving her other shoulder bare. The nightie brushed against the top of her thighs. She spun in front of the mirror, admiring how it looked and then opened the door and walked out in front of Tom. “What do you think?”

“I think you need to come closer.”

She sauntered over to him. “Closer.” She took another step so her legs were brushing against his knees. “Closer,” he murmured. She smiled and straddled his legs, lowering herself until she was pressed against his lap, the nightie rucking up around her hips. He lifted his hands to the newly bared skin but she shook a finger at him. “No hands, you promised.”

“Oh, please.”

“No, you promised, and you know what happens to naughty boys who break promises.” She leaned forward and feathered the words breathily against his ear. She circled her hips slowly against him, grinding against the fabric of his jeans.

His breath hitched in his throat. “No, what does happen to naughty boys who break promises?”

“They get sent to bed with no dessert.” She rubbed against him a little harder, the ridge of his fly providing the perfect shape to grind against. She smiled as she saw his fingers dig into the arms of the chair in an attempt to keep from touching her.

“And what’s for dessert?” His eyes were fixed on the hypnotic movement of her hips as they rocked back and forth on his lap. He slouched down slightly in the chair to provide her with a fuller range of movement.

“I guess I can let you have a taste test.” His eyes lit up at the words and then darkened as he watched her slide her hand up her thigh and then between her legs. He couldn’t see what she was doing as her hand slid under the fabric but he could feel her slip her hand between her thighs and slowly stroke back and forth several times, providing additional pressure not only on her but on his hardening flesh. He took a deep sudden breath and had to choke back a noise that was a cross between a sigh of anticipation and a moan of pleasure, sucking his lips between his teeth and biting down on them. A sly smile crossed Anna’s face as she watched him respond to her teasing. He was normally the one that enjoyed teasing her, but reversing the roles was proving to be very satisfying. She stroked herself a few more times and then removed her hand and held up a damp finger in front of Tom’s face.

“Would you like a taste, Thomas?” She was surprised by the huskiness in her voice.

“You cheeky little…” But his voice stopped as he wrapped his lips around her fingertip. Her eyes fluttered shut as he sucked her finger into the wet heat of his mouth. He was sliding his tongue up the length of her finger when a polite cough interrupted them.

“Can I get you anything else to try on?”

Anna pulled her finger from Tom’s mouth as they both looked at the attendant who was staring at them in a fiercely polite but quelling manner. She could feel the heat flaring in her cheeks and turned quickly away, but Tom smiled charmingly at the woman. “I think we’ve found everything we need.”

Anna fled back into the privacy of the dressing room. She stuck her head out a minute later and beckoned Tom over. She handed him the stack of underthings, and told him to go pay while she changed. “You have to go do this, because I cannot face that woman again! It was like getting caught making out by the Dowager Countess!”

Tom laughed and took the clothing from her and she shut the door again. “Oh, and get me some stockings too. Nude and sheer black. I don’t know what colors I have at home.”

By the time she had finished setting herself to rights, Tom was waiting for her with two large bags and a smile. “Did I really get that much stuff?” She eyed the bags he was holding.

“I may have picked up a few extra things.”

“Like what?” She moved to take one of the bags from him so she could see inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said teasingly, as he wagged one of his fingers in her face. “Now, you’re the one who has to keep her hands to herself.”

She pouted, looking up at him flirtatiously from under her lashes, but it had as much effect on him as his earlier attempt had had on her. “Is this going to be like the reverse of strip poker? I get to put one thing on out of the bag every time I let you touch me?”

“Something like that.” He winked at her, and she felt her insides melt a little.

They were driving back home, the bags out of Anna’s reach in the boot, when she looked at Tom with an odd expression on her face. “Do you ever think that there’s a whole separate person growing in there?” Anna asked, placing a hand on her stomach.

“That’s kind of supposed to be the way it works, right?” He smiled at her briefly before returning his attention to the road.

“Well, yes, but it’s like a whole different person. There’s going to be a whole different person in our family. It’s not going to be just us anymore.”

“I know.” He sounded happy.

“But there’s going to be another person. And I’ll be responsible for that person. Every day.” She stressed the last two words.

“It won’t be just you. I’ll be there too. You’re not going to do this alone,” he reassured her.

“But you’ll be gone a lot.”

“So quit your job and come with me.” His tone was laughing, but Anna wasn’t amused.

“You want me and the baby to just follow you around? Hang out in hotel rooms while you spend 15 hour days filming and schmoozing the press?” She could feel the muscles in her shoulders knotting as she grew more upset, partly at him not taking her concerns seriously.

“Well, I won’t lock you in the hotel room.” He shot her a glance, wondering why she was taking such a negative view on things. “You and the baby can go explore and do things too. You’d have a lot of fun. Think about what it would be like for a child to grow up travelling the world. Think about the education that would provide.”

“Oh, of course, because Eton’s just a slip-shod place these days. No learning at all there.”  Sarcasm dripped from every word.

“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“Of course, but why do I have to quit my job? Why couldn’t you quit yours? Or just scale back – do theater here in London for the next few years, or BBC or some such.”

“Because I’ve worked for a decade to get where I am and the opportunities won’t come again that I have now.”

“So have I.”

“It’s not quite the same thing for you, though,” he responded.

“Why not? If you were female, I’d worry more about your age sensitivity for opportunities, but you’re going to be cast as the leading man into your fifties. I have opportunities that I might not get again if I pass them up too.” She struggled to keep her voice calm, dispassionate, but it was difficult when he acted like her career was less important than his.

“Like what?”

“I’m being considered for a department head position at the hospital.” She hadn’t told him that yet, wondering how in the world to break this news to him. “I’ve pretty much been told if I want it its mine, but they all know I’m pregnant, and the unspoken rule is one and done for children for department heads.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if I want to keep progressing at work, this might be our only child.” She couldn’t believe she had to spell this out for him.

“But, we have both said that we wanted a family.” He looked at her in disbelief. “More than one child,” he reiterated.

“I didn’t realize how much pressure there was going to be on me to only have one child. I’m not like you. I can’t just pick and choose my projects in my line of work.” She looked out the window, not willing to see the disappointment in his face.

“So what you are saying is that we’re going to only have one child.” He stared straight ahead, his voice flat as he spoke. His hands flexed on steering wheel as he tried to avoid a white knuckle grip.

“What I’m saying is that if we have more than one child it’s going to come at a serious cost to my career.” She reworded his accusation.

“And you think that it won’t cost me?”

 “I don’t know, will it?” She was genuinely curious. They had been so focused on getting past the twelve week mark that they hadn’t really discussed what having this baby meant for them long-term when it came to their careers.

“Why are we talking about this in terms of cost? Why aren’t we thinking about this in terms of what a child will bring to us?” Tom put his usual optimistic spin on things.

He could barely even hear her when she spoke. “Because what if she doesn’t like me?”

“What?” He thought he must have misheard her.

“What if she doesn’t like me? This baby, this tiny little baby, is going to be a person, with her own likes, and dislikes, and what if she doesn’t like me?” She was a little louder this time, but what Tom really heard was the despair in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?” He was confused by the sudden change in topic, but more so by the idea that someone wouldn’t like the woman he loved so much.

“Why would she like me?” Anna retorted. “I’m not like you! People don’t just love me! I’m prickly and bossy and selfish and somehow I think that once I’m done breastfeeding, me flashing my tits at her is going to be much less effective at making things all better than it is with you.”

“You think that’s all it takes?” He couldn’t decide whether to be offended or laugh.

“Well, not all.” She laughed and rested her hand on his thigh. The smiled slowly faded as she started to speak again. “But you also chose me, you knew what you were getting, and she’s just getting stuck with me.”

“Okay, one, we don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy. Two, you don’t know if she’s going to like you or not. And, three, any child would be lucky to get you. No one is getting ‘stuck’ with you as a mother.”

“But what if she does.”

“She’s not going to hate you,” he insisted.

She continued like she hadn’t even heard him. “I mean, you kind of expect it when they are teenagers and stuff, but what if it’s the rest of the time too?”

“Sweetness, you have to calm down.”

“I am calm.” The pinched tone of her voice belied her words.

“You haven’t even had the baby yet and you’re worrying about what it will be like as a teenager.”

“Because what if I give up my career for them and then they don’t like me? What if they do like me but I still resent them for making me give up my career?” These fears had been running through her head for weeks now. The constant sickness had made her reevaluate whether or not getting pregnant was worth it, and even now that she was feeling better, she couldn’t stop focusing on all the ways her life was going to change, and how much control she was going to lose, and now that she had breached the dam, her thoughts were flowing out of her like a flash flood.

“Oh, love, that’s not going to happen. You are wonderful.”

“I don’t feel wonderful. And I don’t know anything about kids.”

He looked at her oddly. “You’re a pediatric surgeon. You know everything about kids.”

“I know how to fix them when they’re broken,” she agreed, “but I don’t know how to do all that other stuff. Like making sure they eat their veg and read bedtime stories and broken hearts and not getting the lead in the school play.” He shot her a look. “Okay, so probably not that one if they take after you, but I know the stuff I got up to in school and what if they do the same kind of things but now they are going to have paparazzi following them and cell phones and sexting and who knows what they’ll have fifteen years from now?” Her words were spiraling out of control.

Tom was starting to wonder if needed to stop the car. Instead, he placed one hand over hers where it rested on his thigh. “Anna, take a breath. You have got to take a breath. Deep breath. Hold it, out through your mouth. Again. In through the nose, hold it, out through the mouth.” He talked to her reassuringly for the last few minutes of the ride.

When they got home, he left the bags in the car and took her inside. “Let’s go upstairs and lay down.”

He took her upstairs and laid down with her on the bed. He cuddled her into his side. Resting one hand on her stomach, he slowly stroked her hair. “I love you, Anna. And I love this baby. And we don’t have to figure everything out now. We are going to do this one moment at a time, and right now, we’re going to take a nap with the baby, after you tell it a bedtime story, okay?”

“Tell it a bedtime story? I don’t have any story books for babies.”

“Just tell it a story. One of your favorites, from your childhood.”

He took her hand and placed it on the swell of her belly, and then placed his over it. “Once upon a time,” he prompted her.

She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a duck, and her name was Jemima Puddleduck.”

When Anna was sound asleep, he slowly eased his way out from under her, substituting a pillow in his place. She stirred briefly, but snuggled into the pillow and fell back asleep.

He went downstairs and called Chris on his mobile.

“Tom! What’s up, man?”

“Are all pregnant women crazy, or do I need to be worried?”

The laughter from the other end of the call was reassuring. When he finally stopped laughing, Chris said, “Welcome to pregnancy. What’s going on?”

“So this morning she’s all sexy and flirty and risqué in public and then on the ride home she practically has a panic attack about what if the baby doesn’t like her when it’s a teenager. Last night, she was crying over commercials on the telly. It’s as if there’s some sort of ‘spin the emotion wheel’ in her brain and it changes all the time and I never know what I’m going to get.”

Chris laughed again. “Sounds pretty normal to me. And at some point she will want to redecorate the house. Everything in your house will be wrong, and it will all have to be replaced or you will be failures as parents.”

Tom slumped down on to the sofa. “Do you ever wonder how we survived as a species? Why we choose to do this more than once?”

“Because when they place that baby in your arms, your entire reality changes. And it is all worth it.”

“I can’t wait.” Tom flashed forward in his mind to the moment that his child would be placed in his arms for the first time. “I just worry about what’s going on with Anna.”

“Hormones. You can’t ever tell her that to her face,” Chris warned, “but her body is just going crazy right now. And she’s probably dealing with the whole ‘what’s going to happen to my career’ thing on top of it, if I know Anna at all.”

“You do.”

“My advice, if you want it,” he paused.

“I’ll take anything you want to give me,” Tom’s gratitude was heartfelt.

“Make as few decisions during the pregnancy as possible about long term plans. She’s got maternity leave. You can free your schedule up a lot. Figure out how you work as a family for six months, and then start figuring out what you want to add back in. Everyone’s different, but until you have that baby there with you, you really can’t understand what it does to your priorities.”

Tom took a deep breath. “You’re pretty smart for a surfer.”

Chris could hear the affection in Tom’s laughing remark. “I know, right?”

Tom took a deep breath and let it out. “Thanks, man. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You guys should visit. We’ll let you practice on India. How to change a nappy and chase her around the yard and such.”

“That sounds like a good plan. I’ll look at my schedule.”

They said their farewells and Tom went back upstairs and climbed back in bed with Anna. He spooned around her, draping an arm around her and resting his hand on her stomach. He let his breath slow to match hers. He didn’t fall asleep. He just held her as she slept and pondered how he could help her be less afraid of the future.


	15. The Olivier Awards

As much fun as it was to get dressed up in a fancy dress and wear expensive jewelry, Anna was glad that she didn’t have to do this every day. Looking like this was a full time job. Friday she’d gotten everything waxed, Saturday morning had been underwear shopping, Saturday evening she had spent trying on dresses until she found one that didn’t make it look like she was using her bodice to smuggle baby heads, and most of Sunday she had spent getting ready for the award ceremonies. Full hair, mani, pedi, and makeup took several hours. And then there was getting into the dress.

It had taken several hours last night to find the right dress because Tom had been much better about helping her out of the dresses than getting them on her. Luckily, today she had someone besides Tom helping her get dressed. So here she was with a few minutes to spare, staring at herself in a full length mirror. Hair braided into a coronet with her long hair curled and piled on top and pinned and sprayed into submission. Smokey eye and a pale lip. Diamond earrings dangled from her lobes. An aubergine silk dress fastened around her neck with a diamond studded clasp at the nape, then draped over her breasts only to gather underneath them with another diamond studded band. It flowed around her and she felt like a goddess in it. Sheer black thigh high stockings seamed up the back, suspenders, a pair of lace panties that Tom had picked out the day before that actually laced up the back like a corset, the only thing she still needed was the black heels sitting on the floor next to her. She picked up the delicate teal clutch that was barely big enough for her lipstick, some blotting paper, and mobile. Checking to make sure everything was inside and her mobile was turned off, she clasped it shut, and then picked up her heels. Carrying them with her, she headed down the stairs with her dress flowing out behind her. Tom was on the phone with Luke when he heard her and turned. She smiled as she watched his face shift from one of animated conversation to a stunned silence. He ended the call as she finished walking up to him.

She adjusted his bowtie and then smoothed her hands down the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. “You look…amazing.” She stroked her hand against his cheek and then against his goatee. “Positively delectable.”

He put down his mobile and then took her handbag from her and placed it with his mobile. “Dance with me.”

There was no music but that didn’t stop them. One hand on the small of her back and taking her hand in his other, he pulled her into a slow dance around their living room. She melted into his arms, smiling up at him. Normally she rested her head against his chest when they did this, but she didn’t want to risk getting makeup on his tuxedo. He sang quietly, “Unforgettable” by Nat Cole, as they swayed. It was their tradition before any big awards ceremony – a few quiet minutes together dancing before the car got there, because the rest of the night would be crazy and loud. The inevitable knock at the door came, and she reluctantly let go of him.

Four hours later Tom was giving his acceptance speech. He honestly had thought he wasn’t going to win – he never did – and so his speech was ad-libbed, though his normal eloquence got him through with aplomb. The final thing he said in his speech was, “And last, I want to thank my wife Anna for being a never-ending support to me. She sacrifices so much so that I can pursue this crazy career of mine, and I can’t imagine anyone I would rather spend my life with, even if she won’t let me name the baby Olivier.”

A ripple of surprise followed by laughter echoed through the theatre. Anna pasted a smile on her face for the camera she was sure was focused on her, but all she could think was that she was going to kill him when they got home. She had so many people she hadn’t told she was pregnant yet, and here he was announcing it to the world. She wondered how many of his friends he had told. They had just gotten out of the first trimester the week before, and Andrea was on vacation with her husband, so she hadn’t even told her best friend yet. Andrea was going to be pissed at Anna for this.

Anna accepted the congratulations of the people sitting around her at Tom walked from the stage. He’d being doing the press room for a while, and as close to the end of the ceremony as they were, she probably wouldn’t see him again until afterward. Oh well, Luke was around her somewhere. He’d make sure they got back together and to the after-party.

Sure enough, when the awards were over and the house lights back up, she thumbed her phone on to find a message from Luke telling her where to go. As she made her way through the theater, stopping to exchange greetings and air kisses with half of the West End, she stumbled into Jonny Miller.  He gave her an enthusiastic hug. “Congratulations! To both you and Tom! When are you due?”

And there it was, the question she had been avoiding. No longer was she an interesting person in her own right, she was now a pregnant woman and all further questions for the next six months would be about her pregnancy. She had seen coworkers deal with it and it had been one of the reasons she had delayed telling people. She had gotten more emails from her parents in the last week than she had in the last year, each with an innocent question or piece of advice for her. Like she was going to take up skydiving in the next six months if her mom hadn’t sent her that article on sports to avoid while pregnant. She was waiting for one about the dangers of mainlining heroin.

She finally made it to where Luke had directed her and found Tom there with him, as well as Ruth Wilson. Plastering a smile on her face, she walked over to them. “I thought we would all share the limo to the after party,” Tom suggested. He was so happy he couldn’t stand still, instead bouncing in place. “Of course,” she agreed. Ruth and Tom chatted away happily on the drive over, with Anna throwing in a comment periodically so she wouldn’t look sullen or inattentive. The photographers were waiting at the after party location, so another red carpet barrage of questions, evenly split in topic between Tom’s award and her due date and if they knew the gender yet.

When they finally got inside, Anna grabbed a flute of champagne off the first waiter they passed. Tom grabbed her wrist. “Should you really be drinking that?” he asked.

“It’s one glass of champagne. I’m celebrating your win. I’ll switch to water afterward.”

“Anna, I really don’t think you should have that. It’s not good for the baby.”

She pressed her lips together for a long moment, trying to rein in her temper. She finally said, “Are you really giving me medical advice?” in a terse whisper.

“No, but –” he was cut off.

“Good, or I’ll show up at your next movie shoot and start yelling ‘stage left’!”

She tossed back half of the champagne in one swallow. “Now, let’s go talk to all your friends.” She stalked into the party and Tom followed behind her. True to her word, she shifted over to water after her champagne was finished. The after party mostly consisted of everyone getting progressively more intoxicated, catching up on who was doing what project and which actor, and laughing over  ‘remember when’s’. Anna was growing progressively more bored when a deep voice at her shoulder said, “Could I tempt the lady with a bite to eat?”

She turned and saw Ben’s laughing face.  He was holding a tray full of mixed hors d'oeuvres. “I went back to the caterer and said I had to save a pregnant woman from starving to death while trying to be a supportive wife and this is what they gave me.”

“Ben, you are a lifesaver. I’m starving.” She picked up a little tartlet shell filled with fruit and popped it in her mouth. The sound she made was almost orgasmic. “How long has it been since I told you I loved you?” she asked him. His laugh made her genuinely smile for the first time in hours. Tom reached out to take one of the tarts and Anna slapped him playfully on the hand. “These are not for you, these are for me and the baby. You go get your own food, Mr. Olivier.” She was mostly teasing him, but there was a little bit of anger in the words. He looked at her oddly.

“I don’t suppose you know where there is somewhere to sit down around here,” she asked Ben, turning her back on Tom.

“Your wish is my command.” He held out his arm, and she linked hers through it, and he led her off through a large archway to a room where sofas and club chairs formed comfortable seating around low tables. He squired her to a sofa and placed the tray on the table. She collapsed on the couch and Ben flagged down a passing waiter. “Another whiskey, and for the lady?” He looked at her expectantly. “Ice water.”

“Surely you’re allowed to have a glass of champagne on a night like this.”

“I’ve already had one. Water’s fine.”

The waiter promised to be right back and Anna turned to the tray of food. “I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.”

Ben laughed. “That’s the fun part. The green square thing is pretty good.”

She took one. “You’re right, that’s delicious. Is that avocado in there?”

They spent the next few minutes comparing notes on the different foods they were trying, by which time the waiter had returned with their drinks.

“Would it be horribly gauche if I took off my heels?”

“You take off whatever you need to,” he raised one eyebrow at her in a laughing attempt at lasciviousness.

“Why, Mister Cumberbatch, I do declare,” she attempted a heavy southern drawl that sent them both into giggles. “See, this is why I could never act. I’d just make myself and everybody else laugh anytime I tried to do an accent.” She slipped off her heels and pushed them under the table where they wouldn’t be tripped over.

Ben looked at the four inch heels. “No wonder you want to take those off, I can’t imagine trying to walk in those.”

“I’ve seen photos of you walking in heels. You make a lovely and graceful woman.”  This sent them both into another fit of the giggles.

“I much prefer flats,” he intoned completely straight-faced. The laughter continued.

“I would live barefoot if I could. But alas, people frown on that.” Anna sighed.

“Barefoot is nice. Nothing says home and relaxed like bare feet.”

“Or parading down a runway in black pajamas with a glass of whiskey and a cigar,” she teased him.

He laughed. “Ah yes, my fateful attempt at modeling. I was just proud of myself for not tripping over my own feet. Or the models’.”

“And I do seem to remember you in bare feet and bare everything else in  _Frankenstein._ ”

He leaned into her and in a dramatic stage whisper said, “You’ve figured out my secret – I’m a closet barefooter.”

She snorted, which sent them both off into another round of laughter.

“Give me your feet,” he said when they finally calmed down.

“What?”

“Put your feet up here. I’ll rub them for you.”

“You don’t want to do that,” she wrinkled her nose at him.

“You deserve a foot rub after wearing those for six hours. Now put them up here,” he looked at her sternly, though his eyes were twinkling.

She leaned back into the winged arm of the sofa, grabbed the tray of food, placed her feet in Ben’s lap, and then placed the tray on her legs. He started rubbing one of her feet, his thumb working against the arch of her instep. She groaned in pleasure. “If you ever decide to give up your career in acting, you could make a living doing this.”

He smiled at her. They spent the next half hour chatting about plans for season four of Sherlock, what projects he was doing in the coming year, how her work was going, the possibility of being made a department head and how that would shift her responsibilities, the new motorcycle he was considering buying, and her sadness at storing hers for the length of her pregnancy. This was interspersed with her eating and feeding Ben small mouthfuls so he could keep rubbing her feet.

She finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her. “Ben, had Tom told you I was pregnant?”

Ben shook his head.

Anna sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Maybe he thought it would be a sore spot. My wishes for children of my own aren’t exactly secret.” He looked down at his lap, his hands stilling on her feet.

“As far as I can tell, he didn’t tell anybody. He just announced it to the world.” Anna rolled her eyes.

Ben looked up at her. “You didn’t know he was going to do that?”

Anna shook her head. “I haven’t even told my best friend yet. Andrea is going to be pissed.”

“That seems,” he paused and shook his head. “I’m not going to get in the middle of this. I love both of you and don’t want to take sides.”

She smiled at him. “You’re such a good man. I’m sorry for the way this got handled. Our friends deserve more from us than this. I know it’s just because he’s so happy that he wants to share it with everyone, especially after last time, but it is still frustrating. And hurtful.”

“Last time?”

Anna blinked in surprise. “He never told you that we had a miscarriage?”

“No, I’m so sorry.”

“About a year and a half ago. It was difficult. Physically and emotionally. For both of us.” She looked away from him as she got tangled in her thoughts.

Ben broke the long silence. “Can I ask you a personal question? If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”

“Anything. You’re one of my best friends.” She smiled at him reassuringly.

“A year ago, when Luke called looking for Tom, what was really going on?”

Anna hesitated, wondering if it was okay to discuss this with Ben. She finally decided to be honest with him. “We had fought, and I had kicked him out of the house, and he disappeared for a day.” She couldn’t meet his eyes while she said this.

“I’m assuming everything is better now, considering you’re pregnant.” Ben sounded slightly hesitant.

“Better, yes.”  She didn’t voice the rest of the concerns she had running around her head.

“Anna.”

She looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly at her.

“Why do you have to be so perceptive?”

“It’s all that Sherlock. It’s been rubbing off on me.” He grinned at her. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. But just know that I’m here for you if you need a friend.”

“I know. It’s just…” She shook her head. “This is going to sound stupid.”

“I won’t laugh, I promise.”

“I worry about being a single parent.”

“You think Tom would leave you?” Ben sounded surprised.

“Oh, no, not like that. It’s just that he’s gone so much, and I don’t know how we’re going to manage two careers and a child and have any sort of life together.”

“Have you talked to Tom about this?”

“He’s a ‘live in the moment’ kind of guy. So far his response has been that we’ll figure it out when we get there, or for me to quit and come travel with him.”

“And you don’t like those answers,” he prompted.

“I told him he could quit and be a stay-at-home-dad, or do West End productions or something, but he didn’t like those answers, either. Too many opportunities right now that he’d never get again.”

“He’s right, you know.”

“I know.” She sighed. “But I have opportunities too, like department head, that I’ve worked for as well. I just feel like we both have this vision of what life with a child is going to be like, but we’re both holding on to our career paths that don’t include a child, and it feels like I’m the one who is expected to give up what I’ve worked for to make the happy family vision happen, and it bothers me that he doesn’t see that.”

“Tom will be a wonderful father.”

“I know.” Anna sighed, her shoulders slumping. “But can he be a wonderful father and a wonderful husband and a wonderful actor and a wonderful human being? I’m just not sure there’s enough hours in the day, and I don’t know which of those he would give up if push came to shove.”

“He loves you. You don’t have to worry about him giving you up.”

“I don’t know; he needs a lot of attention. And a child does too. And I don’t know how much attention I have to give. I don’t know if I can do this and not just end up failing everyone and everything.” Her forehead furrowed in worry.

“Anna, you’ve never failed at anything you’ve set your mind to,” his voice was deep and reassuring.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

He reached over and held her chin in his hand. “You are an amazing woman. You’ll figure this out. Trust yourself.”

“It’s taken all my energy this last year to fix the problems we’ve had. I go to all these events and screenings with him because I want him to know that I love him and that I want him to be happy. But it’s exhausting. Sometimes, I just want to stay at home in my pajama pants and have a glass of wine and read a book. I’m so busy being the person he needs me to be that I’m losing sight of myself. I don’t even know which part of me to trust.”

A single tear slipped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. Ben brushed it away with his thumb. “Anna,” he said softly, and she looked at him, hearing a note in his voice she hadn’t heard before. “I hate seeing you so unhappy.”

She sniffed and tried to laugh. “Oh, it’s just pregnancy hormones. Don’t mind me, I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

His hand tightened on her ankle. “You’re not that good of an actor.”

She picked up one of the tiny cream puffs off the tray and held it out to him. “I know, but I don’t want to start crying for real in front of everyone.” He relented and ate the creampuff from her fingers. He was just licking a tiny bit of whipped cream off of her finger when Tom appeared.

“Well, aren’t you two the picture of domestic bliss.” There was a slight edge to his voice, but Anna couldn’t tell if it was directed at her or at Ben, or at both of them together. Anna smiled up at him. “Hello, darling,” she said. “Come to join the slackers, have you?”

He plopped down in the arm chair next to them. “And what have you two been up to?”

“Eating mostly. And Ben has been giving me the most lovely foot massage.”

“Has he, now.”

Anna nodded. “If it wasn’t such a good actor, I’d insist he start his own spa so I could get one anytime I wanted.”

Ben laughed. “You have but to ask, dear.”

“I might take you up on that,” she teased back.

Tom flagged down a waiter and ordered a round of refills for their drinks and another tray of nibbles. Anna relaxed back into the arm of the couch and listened to Tom and Ben catch up, their laughter rising and falling with the conversation. Ben kept slowly rubbing her feet, stopping only to sip his drink, as Tom steadily ate his way through the different sweets on the tray the waiter had left with them. His award gleamed dully in the low lighting.

She awoke to Tom brushing his long fingers against her cheek. She opened one eye and first the other slowly, trying to figure out where she was. As she saw Ben’s gentle smile from the other end of the couch, she suddenly remembered. “Oh, god, how long was I asleep?” She sat up stiffly.

“About half an hour,” Tom said. “I should take you home and to bed.”

She made a noise of assent and Tom helped her to her feet. Ben fished her shoes out from under the table. “I am not putting those back on.” She hooked them on her fingers and kissed Ben goodbye on the cheek. “Thank you for the massage. It was heavenly.”

“Any time.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he remained silent.

Tom and Anna walked silently, hand in hand, through the club. She shivered when they exited into the cold early-morning air, and he slipped off his tuxedo coat and draped it around her shoulders. She smiled at him and pulled the coat tighter around herself. When their car finally pulled up, he helped her into the back seat and then slid in after her. Once they were underway, he turned to her and said, “So, are we going to have this fight now, or do you want to wait until we get some sleep first?”

Anna turned to him, surprised. “What fight?”

“The fight where you yell at me for whatever I did that made you ignore me all night and go off and flirt with one of my best friends.”

“I was not flirting with Ben." Her back stiffened indignantly.

“Really? Because him licking whipped cream off of you sure looks like flirting to me.” His tone was acidic.

“Well you’re paranoid. The cream puff leaked.”

“Why were you hand feeding him anyway?” His voice had shifted from acidic to accusatory.

“Because I didn’t want him to stop rubbing my feet," she responded, trying to remain calm.

“What else was he rubbing?”

“Excuse me?” She hoped she had heard him wrong.

“You heard me. Have you two actually fucked yet or are you still working up to that?”

Anna leaned forward and pounded on the glass separating them from the driver. As soon as it descended, she said, “I need to get out now.”

The driver pulled over and Tom grabbed her arm. “You’re not getting out.  Don’t be stupid.”

“Let me go, or so help me, I will file assault charges, you bastard.”

He dropped her arm like it burned. She opened the car door and stepped out. “Anna, get back in the car. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” She slammed the door shut but he immediately opened it again. “Get back in the car, Thomas.”

“I’m not just going to leave you in the middle of London at three in the morning by yourself. Don’t be stupid,” he hissed at her.

“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself," she retorted.

“Anna, you’re pregnant and wearing a million dollars’ worth of borrowed diamonds.”

She reached up and undid the earrings and threw them into the car. “There. You take care of the diamonds, I’ll take care of the pregnancy.”

“Anna,” he sounded horrified.

“Go to hell, Thomas.” She stormed off, heading back the way they had come. She heard the door shut, and the car moved off. She stopped, blinking back tears of frustration and hurt. It was only now that she remembered that she had left her wallet and keys at home. Cold, barefoot, and broke. So much for being a big girl, she thought. She took her mobile from her purse, and called the one person she was positive was still awake at this time of the night.

“Ben? It’s Anna. I need your help.”


	16. After the After-Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a guest appearance from Benedict Cumberbatch. And just a reminder that these are fictionalized characters, and in no way should this work be seen as an actual account of the activities of the persons actually known as Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hiddleston.

“Ben? It’s Anna. I need your help.”

“Anna, what’s wrong?”

“Can you come get me?” She hated asking for help in general, and considering the situation his help in particular, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Where are you? Where’s Tom?” The concern was obvious in his voice.

She looked around for street markers. She gave him the intersection she was standing at and she heard him give the address to someone. He must already have been on his way home.

“Anna, where’s Tom?” he repeated.

“On his way home, I assume.” Her voice was stiff.

“Why aren’t you with him?” Ben prodded when she didn’t say anything else.

“We had a fight.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Anna, did he kick you out of the car?” His voice sounded like it was caught in his throat.

“No, I got out by myself.”

“And he just left you there?” Ben was incredulous. He couldn’t imagine Tom doing that, regardless of how bad the fight was.

“I made him.”

“You can’t make Tom do anything. No one can.”

“Well, I made it easier on him to do what he wanted, then,” she responded with a bit a heat.

There was another long pause. “Do I even want to know what you were fighting about?” His voice was quiet.

“No, though I’m sure you can probably guess. You’re a smart boy.”

“Not about him telling everyone that you’re pregnant, then.” His response was matter-of-fact.

“No.”

“Do you want me to punch him for you?”

That elicited a half-hearted laugh. “I don’t think that would help matters.”

“What would?”

“A personality transplant?” He could tell she was trying to laugh off the situation, but the pain in her voice dampened any attempt at humor.

“I wouldn’t, even if I could.” His voice was as tender as a kiss.

“Ben.” She sighed softly. Was Tom right? Was Ben flirting with her?

“Oh, I can see you.”

She smiled as a black car pulled up in front of her, but was surprised when Tom got out. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t leave you out here by yourself. I don’t care how mad you are at me; if you don’t want to come home, at least let me take you to a hotel.”

Her heart caught in her throat at the contrite words and the chastened look on his face. She was about to throw herself at him when he looked beyond her and his whole body stiffened.

“I guess I shouldn’t have bothered. I see you already have someone riding to your rescue.” His words were clipped and perfectly enunciated. “How foolish of me for thinking you would actually need me.”

Without even looking, she knew Ben had just arrived. “Tom, please, calm down. It’s not like that.”

“How is it then, Anna? Because it sure looks like you didn’t waste any time calling him after you got rid of me.”

“What was I supposed to do? You drove off and it was then that I realized I didn’t have any money, keys to the house, anything! So I called him because I knew he would be awake.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because you wanted a booty call?” he snarled.

“God dammit, Tom,” Ben said, and Anna whirled around. She hadn’t realized he had gotten out of the car, but he was standing right behind her. “If you thought there was something going on, why didn’t you bring it up with me earlier while she was asleep? Or while we were both there? Why take it out just on her?”

Anna looked back at Tom and he was clenching his jaw so hard his lips were almost invisible. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer to what she thought was a valid question. He didn’t say anything, just ran a hand through his hair in frustration and stared off into the distance, not looking at either of them.

“Unless it’s really not about me, but you’re using it as an excuse to pick a fight rather than discuss what’s really going on.”

“And what do you think is really going on, Benedict?” Tom looked at Ben with as close to hatred as she had ever seen on his face.

“Do you really want to play that game with me, Thomas?” Ben’s face was impassive, but she could see his stance shift into a more defensive one, as if he actually expected Tom to take a swing at him.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Anna said into the testosterone laden silence.

Neither one said anything, and Anna persisted. “Seriously, you two are best friends and you look like you’re about to get into a brawl.”

“Best friends don’t flirt with each other’s wives.” Tom muttered. “Or is not the wife that you’re after, but the baby?”

Anna gasped in shock and Ben looked like he had been sucker punched. “You bloody,” Ben started but Anna yelled, “Shut up, both of you.” They both looked at her, startled by her sudden outburst. “We are not doing this on a street-corner. Acting like a bunch of chavs, we are. Me with no shoes and you two screaming at each other. Get in the car.” They looked at each other and then back at her. Neither one of them moved. “I said get in the car. You are both taller than me but I will kick both of your arses if I have to stand on the boot to do it.” They reluctantly obeyed her, both of them moving sullenly. Anna told the other driver that he wasn’t needed anymore and then joined them in the car. She clambered over Ben’s long legs and dropped in between the two of them on the large seat.

She gave the driver her address. When Tom started to protest, she cut him off. “We are going to go to our house, and we are going to hash this out. I have to put up with you being a shit, Tom, because I’m your wife, but Ben doesn’t, and I am not going to let you lose one of your best friends over whatever it is you think I’ve done.”

“Anna,” Ben started, but she shushed him. “Both of you just be quiet for a few minutes. Think happy thoughts. You’re both acting like five year olds fighting over a toy.” She slipped her hand into Tom’s but he pulled it away. She left it sitting on his thigh. She needed to reestablish some sort of connection with him before they got to the house. She had no idea what was going on between Tom and Ben, especially since they had seemed so friendly chatting earlier at the party, but she knew that Tom needed to know that she was on his side. After a few minutes, she rested her head tentatively against Tom’s shoulder. When he didn’t shrug her away, she relaxed against him. A long minute later, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her more firmly against him, and she smiled contently as she burrowed into his warmth. He draped his coat over her, and she felt cocooned in his care.

She could feel Ben’s gaze on them, impassive in darkness broken only by intermittent street lights. Right now, he was the least of her concerns. She had to get Tom to trust her enough to say what was really going on in his head, because something was not right. When they finally got to the house, they silently got out of the car. Tom unlocked the front door and let them all in. Both men stood awkwardly in the foyer looking at her for instructions.

“I’m going to go change out of my dress. Tom, do you want to put the kettle on? I’ll be back downstairs in a minute.” She started up the stairs and called back down to them, “No punching each other while I’m gone.”

Five minutes later she walked into the living room. She was wearing one of Tom’s UNICEF tees over a pair of orange striped pajama pants. Ben was standing in a corner of the living room with his back to her, ostensibly looking at the contents of the bookshelf, though she was pretty sure he was just ignoring everything going on. She curled up in the corner of the sofa and started searching for all the hair pins that were still in her hair. As she found them, she pulled them out and placed them in a pile on the arm of the couch.

After a few minutes, Tom entered with tea for everyone. He sat at the other end of the couch. Ben finally sat in the arm chair. They all sipped their tea in silence until Anna finally said, “Okay, let’s do this thing. Ben, are you in love with me?” Anna asked flatly.

Ben almost choked on his tea. “No!” He took a deep breath. “I love you as a friend, but you’re Tom’s wife.”

Anna turned to Tom. “Do you believe him?”

There was a long silence. He finally said, “Would you be in love with her if she wasn’t my wife?”

“I think she is someone I would be interested in dating. If she were single. Which she isn’t. And if she hadn’t ever been married to one of my best friends. Which she is.” He took a sip of his tea. “But she’s an intelligent, funny, passionate woman. A lot of men would be interested in dating her if she were single.”

“Somehow, I don’t find that reassuring.”

“Tom,” Anna looked at him with a pained expression on her face, “do you honestly think I would cheat on you?”

“I don’t know. What if you found someone who could give you what I couldn’t?” He was so quiet, the complete opposite of the blustering jackass he had been on the pavement earlier.

“What couldn’t you give me?”

“Stability? Being there for you every day?”

Anna snorted. “And you think I would find that with Ben? His schedule is as bad as yours.”

Tom didn’t say anything. He just rested his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. “Do you feel like Ben and I are flirting with each other?” He didn’t respond. Anna stood and crossed to him. She knelt in the space between his feet and looked up at him. “Please, baby, talk to me.”

He opened his eyes and lifted them to hers. A small smile crossed his face. “Your hair is a mess.” She giggled and raised a hand to her head. “I know, I must look like an electrocuted lion. I can’t find all the stupid hair pins.” She combed her fingers through the wild curls and found a few more and pulled them out.

“Do you feel like I’m flirting with Ben?” she asked again, gazing up into his eyes.

“I know you’re not.” He shook his head slightly.

“You know that in your head. What’s going on in your heart?” Her voice was soft and her face gentle.

“Biggest night of my career and you choose to spend it with Ben instead of me. You slap my hand when I try and eat something and then when I find you again, you’re hand-feeding him and he’s licking the fucking whipped cream off your fingers.” As close as she was, Anna could see the slight widening of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils as he swore.

“That must have really hurt you,” she said calmly.

“It did.”

She rested her hands on his knees. “I’m sorry that I made tonight anything less than perfect for you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead. “I would say I forgive you, but I don’t think you actually did anything wrong. Sometimes I forget the world doesn’t revolve around me.” A hint of a self-deprecating smile flashed across his face.

“Sometimes the world should revolve around you, sunshine.” She leaned up and kissed him briefly, aware that they weren’t alone. She reclaimed her spot on the couch, though she sat closer to Tom this time. “So, why are you so mad at Ben?”

Tom took a deep breath and sat back. “For flirting with you.”

She shook her head. “No, there’s something else going on. You rarely get that particularly vicious with someone, and it would take more than what we’ve talked about for you to be that cruel. That wasn’t hurt, that was anger.”

Tom didn’t say anything more. She looked at Ben, who had been silent throughout this whole conversation. He looked back at her, his face perfectly neutral.

“Seriously, neither one of you are going to talk?” She rolled her eyes. “I could lock you both in the bathroom and not let you out until you make up with each other.”

Ben snickered, and Tom shot him a dirty look.

“He took better care of you than I did,” Tom finally said.

“What?”

“He found you a comfortable seat, brought you food, rubbed your feet.”

Anna waited for Tom to say more, but nothing else was forthcoming. “And?” She looked at Ben, wondering what was going on. Surely there was more to the story than that.

“I’ll tell her if you want me to,” Ben murmured.

The silence in the room was heavy. Tom wouldn’t look at her and Ben just had a look of pity on his face, but she couldn’t tell if it was directed at Tom or at her.

“Okay, then.” She stood up. “I obviously was wrong when I thought we could all talk this out. Ben,” her voice choked, “I’m sorry for the way you got treated tonight. I had the driver wait, so you can go and we won’t waste any more of your time. Hopefully, Tom will come to his senses and come groveling for your forgiveness soon. I’m going to bed.”

She left and went upstairs. Tom and Ben heard the bedroom door shut. Anna crawled into bed. Even as exhausted as she was, sleep eluded her. She could hear the rise and fall of voices downstairs. It was forty-five minutes before she heard the front door open and close. Another half an hour before she heard the bedroom door open and close. She could track his movements in the room by the sounds he was making. Getting undressed. Brushing his teeth. He stood at the foot of the bed for a long while. She wasn’t sure if he was actually going to come to bed until she felt the mattress dip, and a brush of cool air from him lifting the blankets.

She was lying on her side, her back towards him, and she felt him place his hand softly on her side. She lay perfectly still as he slipped his hand under her shirt and let it rest on the bare skin at her waist. Suddenly, he slid his arm around her waist, gripping her tightly. She could feel him press his forehead against the center of her back, and the most heartbreaking sob wrenched its way out of his lungs.

“Hey,” she said softly, as she tried to roll over. “What’s going on?” she asked, as she managed to squirm over onto her back, barely aided by the slight loosening of his arm around her waist. He rested his head on her chest, his arm retightening around her. His whole body was shaking with the force of his crying, and the only thing she could make out were the words, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry,” over and over again amidst  the tears.

She brushed one hand through his hair, letting it slip between her fingers, while she stroked his back in slow circles with her other hand. Anna could feel his hot tears dampening her shirt as he wept, clinging to her like a lifesaver in a tempest tossed sea. There was nothing to do but to wait out the initial storm surge of his pain to find how it would change the landscape of their life together. She made soft soothing noises as she brushed his hair back from his face. She had never seen him like this, not even in the aftermath of the miscarriage. He slowly stilled, grasping her just as tightly, but without the desperation in his touch.

“I’m so sorry, Anna,” he whispered in the darkness.

She continued to stroke his hair.

“I’m sorry for telling everyone you’re pregnant. I wasn’t even thinking that you would want to be involved in that. I just wanted everyone to know how happy I am…was…am. I’m sorry for not listening to you when you tell me your worries. I’m sorry for just telling you to be different to fix things. I’m sorry that you aren’t getting from me what you need. I’m sorry that you feel like you’re not enough just as you are, because I love you so much.”

She smiled in the darkness. Ben had obviously told him off after she had come upstairs. “I love you, too.”

“I have something I need to tell you, but before I do, I want you to promise me that, regardless of what happens between us, that you’ll keep the baby.”

“What?” She tried to look at him but she couldn’t see his face in the darkness. “Why wouldn’t I keep the baby?”

“Earlier, you told me ‘you take care of the diamonds, and I’ll take care of the pregnancy.’ I thought you meant you were going to have an abortion.”

She struggled free of Tom’s grip and reached over to turn the bedside lamp on low. She sat up against the headboard. “In what world does that sound like something I would do?”

He sat up and crossed his legs, his hands clasped in his lap. “You were just so mad. Justifiably so,” he hastened to add. “I said the most unforgiveable things to you. I thought you just didn’t want anything at all to do with me. Or to remind you of me.” His voice trailed off and he looked down. He sounded and looked like a small child waiting for a scolding.

“Sometimes it feels like you don’t know me at all,” was all Anna could manage to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a long silence. Finally, Tom spoke again, barely above a whisper. “I cheated on you.”

“Again?” A quiet word in the dimness.

Tom’s head jerked up in surprise. “What do you mean again?”

“Is this in addition to whoever it was you slept with when you were filming _Thor_?”

His jaw dropped. “You know about that?”

“It was the first time you ever came home from an extended shoot and didn’t jump me the minute you walked in the door. You said you were just tired from all the stunts and the long flight and jet lag, but you weren’t interested the next day either, and you had started what you called a ‘vitamin regimen.’ I recognize antibiotics when I see them. It was one of those times where two and two add up to chlamydia.”

“You knew.” He was dumbfounded. “And you didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t say anything either.”

“So, the emergency work conference you had to go to the next day for work?”

“I checked myself into a hotel for a week. And then I faked a yeast infection. And then I was on my period. And then Andrea and I went on a girl’s only vacation. I think that’s the longest we have ever gone without having sex since we met.”

“So, why didn’t you just tell me you knew?” He was still trying to process that she had known all these years.

“I wanted to know if it was a one-time thing, or if it was an ongoing relationship. Honestly, I was trying to decide how much damage I was going to inflict on my way out the door. So I hired a private investigator. He followed you for a few weeks, hacked your phone, your email, publicists, agents, looking for some sign that you were still seeing whoever it was. And then he got hired onto the production staff on _Midnight in Paris_ and watched you there.”

He searched her face, looking for some clue to her feelings. He had not been expecting her calm response to his confession and was quite out of his depth. “Anna, I swear it was just a one-time thing.”

“The private investigator would agree with you.”

“I got drunk and I was stupid.”

“I would agree with you.” She almost smiled. Almost.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was just a blowjob. I didn’t actually have sex with her.”

“I don’t know if there’s ‘just’ anything when it comes to my husband swapping bodily fluids with another person.” A flash of long-suppressed anger.

A pause.

“So, why didn’t you just kick me out?”

“Because I was still in love with you. I hated you,” she clarified with some heat, but then her voice softened again, “but I loved you too. And you were so repentant. You were such a good husband for the next year, and I knew you were trying to make it up to me. There would be times where I would hear you talking in your sleep and you would just say ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. You were beating yourself up over it, and I didn’t want to make you feel worse.”

“You didn’t want to make me feel bad,” he repeated back in disbelief. “Anna, you are unbelievably good.”

“I learned it all from you.”

“No. That is something you possess by yourself.” His eyes were red from crying, but they filled with tears again. “I accused you of cheating on me tonight, and you knelt at my feet and apologized for eating because you were hungry.” He reached out and took one of her hands in his.

“I really hoped that it burned a lot when you peed. A lot a lot. Like fires of Mount Doom burning.”

He laughed. “Completely justifiable.”

After a long silence, she asked, “so, is there someone else?”

“No. Absolutely not. That was a one-time mistake and I learned my lesson. Even without the chlamydia, I would have learned my lesson. Will you forgive me?”

“Yes. I already have.”

He wiped tears from his cheeks with the palm of his hand.

“So, why tell me now after four years?” she asked.

“She was at the party tonight.”

Anna stiffened in shock. “Did you talk to her?”

“She threatened to tell you unless I paid her.”

Anna’s jaw dropped slightly. “What did you do?”

“I told her that if she breathed a word of it to anyone, I would make sure she never worked on another film or theatre production for the rest of her life, and I would tell everyone she gave me chlamydia.”

“You don’t play nice.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Are you worried about her talking?”

“No. Loki has nothing on me when it comes to evil glares.”

She tried not to laugh and was mostly successful. “So then why tell me now?”

“Because you deserve honesty. When we had that huge fight a year ago, I kept asking you to trust me. And all I can think is that I don’t deserve your trust. And I will do whatever it takes to earn it back.”

“I trust you, even knowing what you have done.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Sometimes love is less about should and should not and more about the blood in your veins being pumped by someone else’s heart.” 


	17. Epic Poetry

He rolled forward so he was on his hands and knees. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

He crawled towards where she sat with her back flat against the headboard. Her eyes fluttered shut in a defense against the raw emotion in his eyes. Every nerve ending felt exposed as his lips lightly touched hers. He pulled away a hair’s breadth, and then pressed against her lips again.  It was the kiss of a man seeking to reforge a thousand shattered connections with the heat of his own flesh. She parted her lips under the pressure, breathing against him. He moved his mouth against hers, learning again the shape of her mouth, the curve of her cupid’s bow, the softness of her bottom lip, the way it felt as he took it gently between his teeth, the way delicate little noises escaped as he slipped his tongue gently past her lips to touch the roof of her mouth, her tongue, the back of her teeth. She felt herself grow dizzy from the feel of his mouth on hers, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen as every breath she took came from his lungs. She finally pulled back from him, just far enough to fill her screaming lungs with air. She could see his chest heaving in time with her own. He cupped her face with one hand and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t deserve you.”

 

“Hush. Don’t talk like that.”

“No, it’s true. The way I treated you tonight,” his voice trailed off. “There’s no excuse. There’s no excuse for how I treated you. I don’t deserve you.”

“If it makes you feel better, I called you a bastard and I threatened to have you arrested.”

He sat back on his heels so he could see her whole face. “It does make me feel better. Because I was being an ass. And I deserved to be treated like one. I cheated on you, and it seems as if it didn’t affect you.”

She looked at him for a long time, and then down at her lap. When she spoke, her voice sounded dusty, like she was unearthing a memory long buried. “That week I checked myself into the hotel, I cried myself to sleep every night. Sobbing like my heart had broken. Because it had. It physically hurt to breathe. I cancelled all of my surgeries for a week because I couldn’t make myself get out of bed most of the time, and when I did get out of bed I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking. You hadn’t just broken my heart, you had broken my life. We’d been together for just three years but I couldn’t remember what it was like not to have you be my sun in the morning and my stars at night. I would try and watch television and I would think of a funny comment that I would want to text you like you were still on location, and it would hit me again. Even when you weren’t physically in my space, you were in my bones. And the laughter would turn to ash.”

She looked up at him to see his response. His eyes were filled with tears, a few of which had already started to drip unheeded down his cheek.

“I called a lawyer. Asked how long it would take to get divorce papers ready. That’s also when I started the paperwork to incorporate my medical practice. Because if you were going to destroy me as a person, I was going to do the only thing I could think of to wall off one piece of my life from you so that I always had an independent income that you couldn’t touch.” She sounded defiant, even to her own ears. “I thought about not coming home. Just not coming home and not telling you where I was. Change my number, move to another city, start over. But I was stubborn. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I was not going to let you drive me out of my life. I wasn’t going to run away.” She took a deep breath and let it out. She realized that she had at some point pulled her knees up to her chest and was hugging them to herself. Even after four years, just thinking about this still gave her the urge to protect herself.

“So I went home. And I was going to tell you I knew. That I wanted a divorce. And I walked in the front door. And you were sitting at the table and you looked up and saw me and you smiled. And all of a sudden it didn’t hurt to breath anymore. And you hugged me and my hands stopped shaking.” A tear rolled down her cheek, doubling the ones on Tom’s face.

“So I hired a private investigator. I decided that I needed more information before I did anything permanent. I told myself that if you were still seeing her, I would leave, but if you weren’t, I would think about maybe staying.” Anna looked away from Tom while she collected her thoughts, trying to find words to convey the worst trauma of her life.

She finally turned back to him, meeting his eyes. “Deciding to stay was one of the hardest things I had ever done in my life. Loving you had always been easy, like part of my autonomic nervous system. I didn’t have to think about it. It was just part of me, always there, steady and reliable. And now I had to choose. It was like having a heart attack. All of a sudden this essential part of you has just tried to kill you. And I had to choose whether or not to get a heart transplant, or keep it and wonder if it’s going to try and kill me again. And I decided to give you another chance.”

Anna looked away, wiped away the tears that had made their way down to her jaw, and then looked back at him. She sat up straighter and looked him square in the eye. “I won’t do it again. I can’t do it again.” Her voice was adamant. “You cheat again and I’m gone, and I will take this child with me. I will not let my child grow up with a father that doesn’t respect her mother.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you. I know it sounds strange but I needed to know how badly I hurt you. It just makes my resolve to not ever do anything like that again even stronger.” He reached forward, and brushed away one of her tears that she had missed and she gentled under his caress. “Only happy tears from here on, I promise.” She turned her head to kiss his fingers, tasting her salt on his skin. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to deserve you.”

She cupped his face in both hands, feeling the dampness of his goatee against her palms. “Love isn’t about deserving. It’s not about earning affection. It’s not 50-50. Love is all in, all the time.”

She was surprised to see him trying to fight back a laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“That was lovely and deep and meaningful and I understand the poker metaphor, but part of me really just wants to yell, ‘that’s what she said!’”

She shook her head in mock exasperation as she watched him trying his hardest not to laugh outright. “You are incorrigible.”

“But that’s one of the reasons you love me, right?” His smile was infectious as it lit up his face, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.

“You know, people think you like Shakespeare because of its elegance and insight into the human experience and the poetry, but I know you. You just like it because of all the dirty jokes.”

He clasped both hands over his heart and made a noise like he had been stabbed. “Oh, you wound me, madam, to the very soul.” He dramatically fell over backward, sprawling across the bed.

She laughed at his antics. “I’m pretty sure that if I kiss you at this point, I end up dead in the third act.”

“Only if this were a tragedy. But it’s not.”

“What would you call our life together?”

He propped himself up on one elbow so he could look at her. “Perfect.”

She stretched out on her side next to him. Her eyes roamed over his face, the size of his pupils, the slight raise of one eyebrow, the way his lips thinned into a smile as he watched her watching him. “I meant it when I said I will leave you if you cheat on me again.”

The smile faded. “I know. You never have to worry about that. I swear.” He took one of her hands in his and raised it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles. “There’s nothing in the world that could make me do that.” He brushed his lips across the back of her hand. “I will do anything to prove that to you.” He turned over her hand and traced his lips across the pulse point in her wrist, his facial hair dancing a counterpoint to the smooth slide of his mouth. “I’ve spent the last four years trying to be the embodiment of all that is good in the world hoping that someday I wouldn’t hate myself. Because I betrayed myself as well as you. And while that gives some great motivation for acting,” a small derisive laugh broke through his words, “it’s no way to live a life. I kept thinking, or more correctly I should say hoping, that the next role would provide absolution and that the next accolade would finally prove that I was forgiven.”

He pressed her hand to his heart covering it with his own larger one. “And so the fates twisted and turned like something out of a Greek tragedy and on the night of my biggest success, they brought me to a reckoning for my greatest failure. It was obvious that I would never be able to forgive myself until you had forgiven me. I knew I had to tell you. And to add a little bit of extra dramatic tension, I knew you were mad at me about something, but I didn’t know what, and then the gods decided to give me a vision of you without me in your life, just to twist the knife I had stabbed myself with four years earlier.”

“Is this what happens to all students of the classics? They view themselves as the protagonist of their own epic poem?”

He laughed. “What, do you think I’m being overly dramatic?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to play Dido to your Aeneas.”

His laughter echoed in the room as he pushed her onto her back, leaned over her and kissed her soundly. “You, my love, are perfection.”

She looked up into his eyes, “I love you, too.” She was suddenly exhausted. She covered her mouth as she yawned.

“Come here, sleepy, let’s get you to bed.” They tugged and shifted blankets until they were both cuddled together under them, her head pillowed on his chest.

Into the darkness, Anna quietly said, “Can I ask you something?”

“You never have to ask for permission.”

“Who knows you cheated on me?”

“Just Ben.”

“How long has he known?”

“I told him tonight. After you fell asleep. You looked so peaceful and innocent and I knew I had to tell you and I didn’t know how. So I asked him for advice.”

“Why were you so mad at him?” She sounded hesitant and confused.

“Because I was scared of losing you. And you had looked so happy with him. The two of you giggling on the couch together and him rubbing your feet and… You looked like you were married to him, not to me. And I was jealous. And I wanted him to be the bad-guy for stealing you instead of me driving you away.”

“I heard you talking after I went to bed.”

Tom chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him curse that much before. He threatened to beat the shit out of me if I didn’t get down on my hands and knees and beg you to forgive me.”

Anna snickered.

“He said that I was the luckiest man on the face of the earth, and if I didn’t recognize it when you cuddled into me in the car or knelt at my feet, even though I was the one being the asshole, then obviously, he was going to have to break open my ‘Cambridge educated skull’ and let in some sense.”

Anna tried to hold back a laugh, but failed. “Are you two okay now?”

“Mostly. I don’t know how to undo that damage.”

“It will take time. And not doing it again.”

“Still. I feel like I should take him something as a peace offering.”

“Then do it,” she replied.

“I don’t know what.”

“A bottle of a nice aged single malt whiskey. A new humidor filled with his favorite cigars. A signed or first edition T.S. Eliot. A Sherlock Holmes doll punching a Loki doll in the face. There’s lots of different options.”

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Rattle off ideas like that.”

She tilted her head so she was looking up at him. “I’m the one who does most of the Christmas shopping, remember?”

“So what would you get Chris?”

“A guide to the best surf spots in Spain. New lifting gloves.  Slack-key guitar albums.”

“You can just do that off of the top of your head,” he looked at her with surprise.

“I just keep mental lists. Boys are harder to shop for than girls, so I make sure to remember when I see something I think they would like.”

“What would you get me?”

She laughed. “I already got you an Olivier award, what more do you want?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what I want.” Before she could start singing the Spice Girls, his lips closed over hers. The sunlight was peering in the windows when several minutes later he moaned in her ear, “All in.”


	18. The Day After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly smut? I’m not sure why this happened. Apparently Tom and Anna decided they needed (more) makeup sex. NSFW. Hopefully they will cooperate next chapter.

Anna woke up but refused to open her eyes. She was still tired. She didn’t want to be awake but she was starving and needed to use the loo. She stared at the insides of her eyelids for a while, wondering if she could trick her body into going back to sleep. After a few minutes of futile attempts to convince herself she was a robot that didn’t need food, she shoved back the blankets and shuffled to the loo. She flipped on the light, took one look at herself in the mirror, and flipped it back off. The crazy post-updo hair had only been amplified by bedhead and sex. She wondered out loud how old she would have to be before she learned to take her makeup off before she went to bed. She looked like something the cat had mauled to death and left in the alley to get rained on for a week.

 

The light from the little nightlight was just about the right amount of illumination for her tired eyes to handle. She stared at the shower. A shower sounded really nice. But she was also hungry. But the food was so far away. She tried to remember how long it had been since one of them had gone to the market to get food. Was there even any food downstairs worth the effort of actually going down a flight of stairs to get? Maybe she would go downstairs, get herself something to eat, and then come back and eat it in the shower.

She finally went downstairs and opened the fridge.  Glass of milk. Pre-natal vitamin she had forgotten to take last night. A handful of blueberries. Yoghurt. Two pieces of toast with butter. She looked lustfully at the coffee maker, but had given up coffee except in emergencies. She decided that with her hunger momentarily satisfied she needed a shower and headed back upstairs. Sleepily grumbling about the rudeness of staircases, she turned on the water in the shower, waited a few moments and then got in. She groaned in delight as the hot water cascaded over her body and pushed the button for the aromatherapy steam. She stood motionless, letting the eucalyptus scented steam rise around her as she slowly continued to wake up.

“Mind some company?”

She opened her eyes to find Tom had already joined her in the shower. She smiled and shook her head. He stepped closer to her and she opened her arms, wrapping them around his waist and resting her head against his shoulder. “I could totally take a nap like this,” she murmured.

She heard him chuckle softly as he wrapped his arms around her. “Go ahead. I’ll wake you up when we run out of hot water.”

After a few minutes she heard him murmur, “Keep your eyes closed.” She was about to ask why when the scent of her shampoo hit her nose. A sound of pure pleasure came from her lips as he started washing her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp. “You can keep doing that forever,” she said happily. She was practically purring as he spent several minutes with his hands in her hair, his strong fingers working her into a metaphorical puddle.

She smelled her body wash as his hands moved to her shoulders and down her back. He kneaded the muscles, searching out any knots and working them loose. When she was molded boneless to his chest, he let his hands slide down to the curve of her ass, cupping her with his hands. He squeezed them playfully and she giggled.

“Turn around,” he whispered against her ear.

She made a noise of disagreement. “Mmm, comfy.” She tightened her arms around his waist for a moment and then relaxed again. He reached behind his waist and gently untangled her hands from each other. He brought her arms out in front of her and then spun her around so she was facing away from him and then placed her arms on his shoulders. She caught a wrist with her other hand behind his neck as he placed his hands on her hips, tugging her back against him.

“Comfy?” He slid his hands up her sides, trailing long fingers against the bottom of her rib cage.

“I’m not sure that’s the word I would use,” she sighed as he brushed his mouth against her ear.

“What word would you use?” His tongue flicked against the sensitive skin below her lobe, right at the corner of her jaw. He slid his hands up her sides, skimming the curve of her breasts and up her arms, pulling back slightly when he got to her elbows. He could hear the soft sigh she made as she stretched, her whole body realigning as she arched from the gentle pressure. Her back slid along his chest as she moved, his chest hair tickling against her spine.

She turned her head so she could see him and whispered, “Loved.” He lowered his lips to hers but the kiss only lasted for a moment before she broke it off, choosing instead to lick the droplets of water from his neck. She teased him mercilessly with her tongue, flicking and licking and sucking at his throat, mouthing at his adam’s apple, biting at the tendon that stood out down the side of his neck. She swirled her tongue into the hollow where the corner of his jaw gave way to his ear before raking her teeth across his earlobe. She could feel him hardening against her back and pressed against him, rocking her hips slowly. She could hear his breath quickening, feel his chest moving more rapidly as she continued to tease him.

He ran his hands down her arms and to her chest, cupping her breasts and tugging at her nipples. She huffed out a short gasp at the sensation, lightning lancing down her body from her breasts to below her navel where it ignited a burning heat. “You’ve always had the most amazing skin,” he murmured, “but since you’ve been pregnant, it’s just so incredibly soft. It’s like touching silk.” His hands roamed across her torso, gripping her waist, her hips, splaying across her belly and pressing her against him. They finally slowed their explorations as one hand settled over a breast and the other one slid between her thighs, cupping her wet skin. Both hands moved at the same tempo, rubbing and squeezing until she was whimpering. He rolled her hardened nipple between his thumb and his finger, pinching it hard as he slipped two long fingers deep inside her.

She gave up her attempts to gain an upper hand in the game they were playing, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. He was watching her, blue blazes instead of eyes, as she stopped rocking back against him and started rubbing against his hand, pushing herself onto his fingers. He smirked as she started making needy little noises deep in her throat, finally breaking out in a pleading call of his name.

“You need something, sweetness?” She nodded desperately. She knew him well enough to know that if she lowered her hands from around his neck he’d stop touching her and put them back where he had placed them. Instead, she had to beg for what she wanted.

“Please Thomas,” her voice broke off as he spread his fingers inside her, stretching her even further open.

“You still haven’t told me what you wanted.” He whispered the words against her ear before starting to trail warm, wet kisses down the line of her throat to her shoulder, his stubble scratching against her delicate skin.

“Please, Thomas, touch me.” The last word almost changed octaves as he added another finger.

“Fuck, baby, I can barely get three fingers in you. After all the things I’ve done to you, how are you still this tight?”

There was nothing like shower sex to make Tom talk dirty. He started rubbing his thumb against her clit, little circles that made her bite her bottom lip as the tension built, her entire body feeling like it was being pulled tight, all her nerves being reeled in to a tight little ball of atomic heat. “Don’t come yet, Anna. Don’t come until I say you can.”

She whimpered in dismay, knowing how close she was. “Please, Thomas, let me come.”

“Not yet, baby,” he said, pinching her nipple harder. “I am going to take you further. You want to come as soon as you can but I’m going to make you wait for it, let it build,” his voice was hot on her ear, “and it’s going to take you further than you’ve ever gone before.” One hand was clenched in his hair, the other one digging into his shoulder as she clung to him. He knew how much power his voice had over her, delighted in his ability to stoke her inner fires with a few choice words. “You’re my good girl, and you are going to wait to come until I tell you to, aren’t you, angel?”

She nodded, beyond speech, as his fingers moved and twisted and pounded inside her. She bit her bottom lip harder, the pain being the only thing that anchored her in her body against the erotic tides wanting to drown her.

“I want you to say it.” His voice was harder than a moment before. “Say you’re my good girl.”

A tremulous high-pitched whine was all that Anna could manage. His thumb was on her clit, circling faster.

“I’m not going to let you come until you say it, baby.” His breath brushed over her ear, hot and powerful.

She shuddered and tried to speak, “I’m…your…good…” she managed to get the words out as heaving breaths, “girl.”

“You are a good girl,” his voice was deep and approvingly. “So now you can come. Come for me, baby.”

She didn’t need any more encouragement, letting herself sink into the heat that had been building for so long. His words breached the dam holding it back and she was washed away in a flood of pleasure, little spasms rocking her body as she slammed her thighs shut on his pumping hand. He continued playing with her clit, sending little shock waves through her body as she floated on the cloud of delight she was experiencing.

He kissed her lips softly, brushing against them repeatedly as she relaxed back in to her body. When she finally kissed him back, he smiled, knowing she was again in control of her own form. He let go of her then, long enough to reach out and grab the teak stool they kept in the shower enclosure. He sat down on it, and reached up and pulled her down onto his lap. She straddled his legs, sinking herself onto his hard cock with the ease of long familiarity. The feel of him stretching her open made her moan, a sound echoed by his groan in a lower register.

She rested her forehead against his as she squirmed, wriggling her hips a little to get him securely seated deep within her. “Fuck, Thomas,” she whispered, “nothing ever feels as good as your cock inside me.”

His smile was animalistic as he held her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. She started rocking against him, setting a slow but steady pace. He leaned back, resting his shoulders on the smooth marble tiles of the shower enclosure. She watched him, his eyes closing as he gave in to his body, knowing that she was going to ride him until they both got what they wanted. She braced her hands on his chest as she moved faster, sliding up and down on him, angling her hips so each thrust hit that spot deep inside her that always drove her insane. She ran her fingernails down his chest, hard enough to leave red trails against his fair skin, and he shuddered under her touch.

“God, Anna, your pussy is so fucking tight.” He groaned as she slid herself down onto him again. He obviously decided that she was moving too slowly because he suddenly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her hard against his chest, pinning her in place. He started thrusting up into her, harder and faster than she had been going.  She worked one hand in between them down to her clit and started stroking herself, knowing that she was going to lose it again when he came inside of her, spurred on by the feel of his hot come pulsing in to her. She could sense him hardening even more, thickening as he approached his climax, and it drove her even higher.

“Come in me, Thomas, please,” she begged him and sank her teeth into his shoulder. He gave in to her plea and, digging his fingers hard into her hips, thrust up into her with all his force, flooding her with sticky heat. The feel of him exploding inside her drove her over the edge, and her pussy spasmed around him, milking him of every last drop.

*

They curled up on the couch together, eating Chinese take-away, and went through their mobiles together, sharing messages of congratulations on both his award and their baby. Tom sent out a tweet thanking his fans for all the messages of congratulations, and another one apologizing to friends and family for getting carried away and letting the whole world know before he and Anna told them in person. Anna called Andrea, who luckily hadn’t heard since she was on vacation, and had to hold the device away from her ear at the resulting scream of joy. Anna had two text messages from Ben checking to make sure she was okay. She replied briefly, “Everything’s great.” She suddenly felt leery about sharing too much information with him. She wasn’t sure if it was that he knew about Tom cheating on her, or that she was now hyper-conscious of all of their interactions since Tom’s accusation last night, but her normal friendly banter with him wouldn’t flow.

Tom eventually confiscated her mobile. He turned it off and chucked it under the couch with his. “No more outside world today. Just me and you.” He smiled at her playfully, eyes big and bright.

“You realize that if this child inherits your puppy dog eyes, we’re never going to be able to tell her ‘no,’ right?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head at him in mock reproach. “It’s not like I’ve ever been able to tell you ‘no’ either.”

“I know,” he raised an eyebrow at her flirtatiously and she started giggling. “Come here, sweetness, give me a cuddle.”

She happily snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. He draped an arm around her and they spent the rest of the evening together, wrapped up in each other as they watched movies they’d seen before. They quoted dialog, threw popcorn at each other, and got into tickle fights that ended in breathless kisses.  Anna woke to him carrying her up the stairs to bed. “I can walk, you know,” she mumbled.

“I know, but I can carry you. I have to take advantage of the time I have with you, to make up for the times when I’m not.” She knew he was thinking about leaving again. Two more days and then he would be gone for a month. He set her down at the edge of the bed.

She slid her arms around his neck. “Even when you’re not here with me, you still take care of me. I sleep in your shirts while you’re gone, and watch videos of all your interviews. And even in the darkness in the middle of the night, I know you love me. Distance doesn’t matter to the heart.”


	19. Photographs

Anna looked up from her desk at the knock on the door. She paused the program she was using to record her dictation of patient visit notes and called out, “Enter.” She smiled as Tom opened the door. He held up his mobile. “I got a message from Luke that I’m supposed to meet you here.”

Anna stood and came around her desk to hug him. “Yes, Luke and I have been plotting for the last few days trying to find an overlap in our schedules.”

“Besides every evening at home?” he asked, slightly confused.

“Well, we had to include another schedule as well, but it’s a surprise.”

His eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“You’ll have to wait and find out.” She kissed him on the cheek. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to wait too long.” She took him by the hand and, closing the door behind her, led him down the hall. Tom was quickly lost. He knew how to get from parking to Anna’s office, and the nurses’ station on the surgical floor, but that was it. She finally opened a door into a darkened room. She flipped on the light but that only revealed a standard examination room. There was a bunch of technical looking equipment in the middle of the room and an exam table, but that was about it.

His eyes narrowed. Anna was grinning practically from ear to ear and he wasn’t sure why. “What are we doing in here?”

“Waiting.” Anna was completely failing at her attempt to look calm and enigmatic.

“For?”

“Another person to show up.”

He was about to ask who when the door opened. Anna introduced the petite, white coated woman to Tom. “Tom, this is my friend Dr. Ananti Prajapati. Ananti, my husband Tom.” They exchanged greetings. “Ananti is a radiologist, and when I explained you were leaving for a month tomorrow, she found a hole in her schedule to do a sonogram for us.” She looked up at Tom to see if he understood and she could tell by his radiant smile that he did.

“So, I get to see the baby before I leave?”

Anna nodded. Tom reached for Ananti and hugged her impulsively. “Thank you. Honestly, I have no words to say how grateful I am that you are doing this.”

She laughed as Tom practically lifted her off of her feet. “Anna told me you were a hugger,” she teased him. She turned to Anna. “Shall we?”

“Quick, before I have to pee.” Anna hopped up on the table and laid down, wriggling her scrub bottoms down around her hips and pulling her shirt up to just below her chest. Ananti pulled the radiology cart over to the table and seated herself, pushing a few buttons to get everything started. Anna reached over and grabbed Tom’s hand as Ananti squirted the ultrasound goo on her belly, suddenly nervous. There had been an ultrasound at six weeks to confirm the presence of a heartbeat, but at that point, the baby had resembled a jelly bean more than anything. Now, the baby would be big enough where Ananti would be able to identify if something was wrong. Tom looked down at her as she squeezed his hand. One look at the lines etched in her brow and the way she was chewing at her bottom lip and he knew exactly what was running through her mind. He reached down and kissed her forehead gently before whispering, “Everything’s going to be just fine.” Her eyes fixed on him, pleading silently for reassurance as she felt the wand on her stomach. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.”

Anna felt the wand moving over her abdomen but kept her eyes fixed on Tom’s reassuring expression. It felt like forever before Ananti said, “Would you like to see your child?”

Anna’s head jerked to the side as she looked to where the radiologist had swiveled around the computer monitor so they had an unimpeded view. There on the screen, in a perfect silhouette of light against dark, was the profile of their baby. Tears suddenly filled her eyes, blurring her vision. She quickly wiped them away so she could see clearly as the baby opened and closed its mouth. She heard Tom make a sound she didn’t recognize. She looked up at him to see tears in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her firmly and then whispered against her lips, “I love you, Anna.” He stayed that way for a few moments, staring into her eyes, before he turned his face again to the monitor.

Ananti walked them through what they were looking at, pointing out the chambers of the heart, the femur bone, the incredibly small little kidneys. She was in just the right angle to catch the baby’s movement as it waved its arm. “Hi, baby,” Tom whispered.

Anna was overwhelmed by all the visible details, the spinal column like a strand of pearls, the little bones in the arm, even individual fingers were visible. The steady whooshing sound of the baby’s heartbeat provided a soothing backdrop to listen to the details of the image they were seeing. “How far along do you think you are?”

“Fourteen weeks tomorrow.” She watched as Ananti made measurements of the skull and the femur.

“You’re measuring at thirteen weeks, five days, so you’re right on track.” Anna smiled in relief as she continued. “I’d estimate a weight of almost forty grams. And the baby is measuring about eight and three quarter centimeters from head to bottom.” She looked over at them. “About the size of a lemon,” she explained, smiling.

“A lemon,” she heard Tom repeat quietly.

Ananti moved the wand back so they were looking at the profile again. Anna gasped softly as the baby started sucking its thumb. She looked up at Tom to see him rubbing his face, his hand over his mouth. She squeezed his other hand and he looked at her with awe in his eyes. He dropped his hand so she could see him smile. He clasped both hands around hers and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

They both turned back to the image of their child, watching with the attention due an Oscar winning performance. The baby sucked its thumb, oblivious to its audience, periodically waving its other hand about. “In a few weeks you’ll be able to feel when the baby moves like that, Anna. A few weeks after that and Tom will be able to feel it as well.” Finally, she said, “Your little one insists on keeping its legs crossed so I can’t tell the gender.”

Tom said, “It doesn’t,” he paused and cleared his throat, “it doesn’t matter. Just seeing the baby is enough.”

“Thank you so much, Ananti,” Anna added.

Ananti handed a stack of small papers to Tom. “I printed out some pictures for you.” He looked down at the photo of his child, the outline of the face etched in black and white for all to see. He hugged her again. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I have another appointment so I have to go,” she reached down and pushed a button on the computer, “but you two can stay in here as long as you like. Just turn the light off as you leave.” She took a disc from the computer and put it in a jewel case. “I burned you a copy of the sonogram, so you can look at it later.” She handed it to Anna along with a handful of tissues. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Thank you so much for squeezing us in, Ananti. I owe you.”

She smiled and left the room.

Anna started wiping the goo off her stomach with the tissues before Tom took them from her and gently finished cleaning her off. He tossed the crumpled mass in the bin and then leaned down and gently kissed her stomach. He pulled over the stool that Ananti had been sitting on and sat down before lowering his head so his mouth was just a few centimeters from the swell of Anna’s stomach. “Hello, baby,” he said quietly, “I’m your father. Dad. Daddy. Whatever you decide to call me is okay. You’re going to hear your mommy talking to you every day, but I won’t always be here. Just remember, I love you. Even when you can’t hear my voice, always remember that. I love you, my child.”

Anna could feel his hot tears baptize her stomach. She gently stroked his hair, brushing it back from his face as tears welled in her own eyes. He raised his head and looked at her. “We’re having a baby,” he said, overwhelmed.

Anna nodded. “Yes, we are.”

“There’s a baby in there.” He rested a hand gently on her stomach. “A real baby. Our baby.” He started rubbing at his neck with his free hand, and Anna could tell he was searching for words, something that didn’t happen often. “I don’t think it really sunk in until now. Seeing this today,” he stroked her stomach, “seeing my baby just made it real. I’m going to be a daddy.” His voice broke a little bit on the last word. Anna placed her hand over his on her stomach.

“You’re going to be a wonderful daddy.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because the one thing children need more than anything is love, and I don’t know anyone with a more abundant supply of love than you.”

When Anna got home that night she went upstairs to change out of her work clothes. The door to the nursery was open and she paused momentarily as she heard Tom singing. She quietly approached the door and looked in to see Tom sitting in the chair, his laptop propped open in front of him, strumming his guitar and singing a lullaby. She didn’t recognize the words, but she leaned against the door frame as she listened to him sing. He looked up at her, and she saw the smile in his eyes as he finished the gentle melody. He pushed a button on his computer, and said, “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“That was lovely.”

“It’s a lullaby I remember my mother singing to me as a child when I couldn’t sleep. I thought I would record it – something for the baby to listen to while I’m away so my voice won’t seem so strange when it’s born.”

Anna smiled. “That’s a lovely idea.”

“And then, when I’m home, I can sing to the little lemon myself.”

“We should pick a nickname for the baby until we know what we are actually going to name her.”

“You don’t like Lemon?”

She walked over to where he was sitting, and removing his laptop from the ottoman, took its place. “She won’t be lemon sized for long. Not at the rate she’s growing.” She rubbed her stomach subconsciously.

“We could change the name with the size. Apple, peach, cantaloupe,” he started naming them off on his fingers until Anna interrupted.

“No fruit analogies. We’ll end up around pumpkin or watermelon and I don’t need to feel that big.”

“You,” he emphasized the word, “will be dazzlingly gorgeous no matter how big you get.”

“You say that now.” She made a little noise of derision. “I’m still down a stone from my pre-pregnancy weight.”

“Anna,” he said, as he pulled her on to his lap.

“Thomas,” she said, mimicking his concerned tone, screwing up her face in mock consternation. He gave her a quelling look and she stopped and looked down at the floor.

He took her chin in his hand, gently raising her face until she was looking at him. “This isn’t a time to be worried about gaining weight, dearest.”

“I know. And I’ve been good, I promise.” She reassured him, her nose wrinkling with a quirky smile. “I’m eating breakfast every day.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Even gave up my morning coffee to take care of this little sprite.” She rubbed her belly lovingly.

“I’m overjoyed with how well you’ve handled this. I know you’ve struggled with your self-image before, but it’s been years – since before our wedding, really – that it’s been much of an issue for you. At least that I’ve noticed.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’m allowed to be concerned about what I’m going to look like when I’m nine month’s pregnant without it being an eating disorder. Besides,” and she laughed, “it’s easier to love my body when someone worships it every night.”


	20. Twenty nine days later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring guest appearances from Chris Hemsworth and Benedict Cumberbatch.
> 
> Tom has to go on location for twenty-nine days. Snippets from their time apart.

# The Center Cannot Hold - Chapter Twenty

 

_A/N All sorts of feels. Featuring guest appearances from Chris Hemsworth and Benedict Cumberbatch._

Tom has to go on location for twenty-nine days. Snippets from their time apart.

**Day One**

Tom kissed Anna goodbye. Luke was waiting with the car to take him to the airport but this kiss, this feel of his lips on hers was more important. As he stood in the doorway with the chill morning sun on his shoulders, Anna needed one more embrace from him before she could let him go. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, holding on to him as if her life depended on it.

She finally stepped back. “God, I suck at this,” she said as she wiped tears away. “I’m supposed to send you away with a smile so it’s easier on you to go do what you have to do, right? I swear these stupid hormones are wreaking havoc with me. I cry over everything. It hasn’t been this hard to let you go in years.”

 

He pulled her back into his arms, one hand on her back, the other one cradling the back of her head. He could feel her tears hot on his neck as she sobbed. He whispered soothing nonsense into her ear, peppered kisses across her temple, stroked circles on her back.

She took a deep breath and forcefully pulled herself away from him. “We would have lost World War II if all women acted like me. You go. Go and earn an Oscar, and I’ll see you when you get back.”

One last kiss. And another. A kiss on her stomach. And then he was gone.

**Day Two**

_Phone call between Tom and Chris Hemsworth_

“Chris, how did you do it being away from Elsa when she was pregnant?”

“Lots of phone calls. And Skype.”

“She was devastated yesterday when I left. I’m worried she’s going to cry every time she talks to me. I don’t know how to handle that.” Tom was pacing the floor of his rented flat.

“She’s pregnant. She’s going to cry over everything. Don’t take it personally.” Chris’s voice was rich and reassuring. Tom could picture Chris gripping the back of his neck and looking him in the eyes like they were back filming together.

“How am I not supposed to take it personally? She’s my wife and she’s crying. I’m supposed to fix whatever is making her cry, but I can’t exactly punch me in my own face.”

“I’ll punch you in the face if it helps.” His smile was practically audible.

“You’ve done that before.” Tom laughed. “You almost broke my nose and it was on accident. I would hate to see what your monstrous fist would do with any intent behind it.”

“You have to tell her. If texting is easier, then do that. You have to figure out how to make this work for both of you, especially if you planning on having more than one. You’re working fifteen to eighteen hour days and then sleeping as much as you possibly can because you’re exhausted. She’s probably not doing that so she’s got a lot more down time. Make sure she has stuff to do. Call her friends and get them to help. Actually, your next kid will probably be easier because she’ll have someone else to take care of to keep her busy.”

Tom was silent for a while absorbing this counsel. “Speaking of which, when can we come take care of India?”

“We’ll be in Spain visiting her family next month. You should come visit.”

“Let me talk to Anna about her schedule.”

**Day Three**

_Phone call_

“Chris has invited us to come visit next month while they are in Spain. Do you think you could take a week off from work to go lay on a beach with me?”

“Can we get a little beach front bungalow with a porch swing?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to go, I’ll have someone build it.”

“I’ll pack the sun cream and my bikini.”

“And nothing else.”

**Day Four**

_Phone call between Anna and Andrea_

“Andrea, I’ve got tickets to the Chelsea match. Do you want to go with me?”

“Football’s not really my thing, dove.”

Anna sighed. “I know, but it’s not Tom’s either, and I haven’t gone in forever and I want someone to go with me.”

“Sorry, but I wouldn’t have any fun and I would make you miserable.”

“Fine.”

**Day Five**

_Text messaging_

Do you think we should get a new house? – Anna

No? – Tom

Are you sure? We could get one like they have in  _Notting Hill_  where all the houses border that garden and then we could do Tai Chi and Sprite could run around with other kids and it would be beautiful. – Anna

Stop watching movies and go to bed, sweetheart. – Tom

I’m calling a realtor tomorrow. – Anna

Okay, whatever you want. – Tom

**Day Eight**

“Ben, what a surprise!”

He was standing on her front step, looking self-conscious. “I know things have been awkward for the last few weeks, but I thought I would bring a peace offering of curry and some classic movies and see if we can be friends again.” He held up the bag in his hand.

“Of course we’re still friends. Come in, curry sounds wonderful.”

They curled up on the couch, plates of curry in hand and watched _Casablanca._

“Tom sent me a drawing someone had done of Sherlock punching Loki in the face.”

“He did?”

Ben nodded. “I’m assuming he had it done, since that’s fairly odd imagery, even compared to some of the things I’ve seen.” He rolled his eyes.

Anna tried to keep a straight face. “Is Martin still tormenting you with Johnlock?”

“He prints out his favorites and tapes them up all over the set.”

Anna laughed. “Does he hide them somewhere that you find them while filming?”

“Once. Then the director forbade anymore where it would interfere with production. So now he just puts them on my chair.”

“He only does it because you react.”

“He does it because he’s Martin.” Ben’s tone was sardonic, but his smile was fond.

Anna touched Ben’s arm. “Are you and Tom okay?” Her brow furrowed in concern.

“I think so. We’ve talked a few times on the phone since then. Stress does crazy things to a man, and it was so out of character for him that I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“He really didn’t. After fixing things with me, the next thought on his mind was to make it up to you.”

“And did he? Fix things with you?”

Anna nodded. “We’re good.”

“Really?” Ben’s eyes searched her face.

“Yes. Now pay attention to the movie, we’re getting to the best part.”

Fifteen minutes later she turned to him and asked, “I don’t suppose you would want to go to a football match with me tomorrow?”

**Day Ten**

_Phone call_

Anna’s heart jumped when she saw who was calling. “Luke, is everything okay? Did something happen to Tom?”

“Tom’s fine. I was wondering if you had looked at the paper this morning.”

“You know I don’t read the paper.”

“Well, there’s a picture from yesterday of you and Ben hugging with the caption, ‘While the cat’s away’ and it goes on to say, “While Tom Hiddleston is out of the country filming his latest movie, his pregnant wife Anna is spending her time boozing and canoodling with his best friend and movie star Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“They used the word canoodling?”

“That’s what you twigged to?”

“Well, the rest of it is stupid. We went to a football match. I had one sip of his lager. He gave me a hug. He’s my friend.”

“So nothing’s going on between you and Ben?”

“Are you accusing me of cheating on Tom?” Her voice was dangerous.

“No, of course not.” She could practically hear him backpedaling.

“Good.” Anna hung up.

**Day Eleven**

_Phone call_

“So, you’ve been canoodling, eh?”

Anna sighed in disgust. “Who showed you that?”

“She shall remain nameless.”

“You know nothing,” she was cut off.

“I know nothing happened. You two are friends, and I’m glad you’re out enjoying yourself rather than sitting at home moping while I’m gone.”

“Really?”

“Really. I trust you.”

**Day Twelve**

_Phone call_

Anna was surprised when her mobile rang. “You’re calling early this evening.”

“I disslocated my shoulder sso they gave me some time off to recover.”

She sat up in bed, losing her place in the book she was reading. “Are you okay? Did they give you anything for it?”

“I’m fine. They popped it back in and they gave me some pillss.” He sounded like he was feeling absolutely no pain.

“I’m judging by the slur in your normally perfect enunciation that you took them?”

“Yesss.”

“Do you know what they are?”

There was a long pause. “Yellow.”

“Okay.” She stifled a laugh. “How much time did they give you off?”

“I wasn’t scheduled to shoot tomorrow ssso that should be okay. And then, and then I can do all the standing still partss.”

“Do they have someone keeping an eye on you?” She was a little concerned about how doped he was.

Another long pause. “Like Ssssauron?”He sounded confused.

Anna bit back a sharp bark of laughter. “You go to sleep, love. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“No, you don’t undersstand. I  _loooove_ you. Like, sso much. And Ssprite. And you make me delirious with joy.”

Anna giggled. It was like listening to a stoned Bill Hazeldine. “I’m not sure that’s why you’re delirious right now, but thank you.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You know who else is beautiful?”

“Who?” she asked curiously.

“You. You are.”

“Thomas, hang up the phone,” she prompted him.

“You first.”

“Thomas.”

“Anna.” He mimicked her tone perfectly.

“Go to sleep.”

“Sing me Soft Kitty,” he asked, suddenly sounding young and vulnerable.

“What is Soft Kitty?”

“It’s a ssong about a ssoft kitty.” She could practically hear him thinking, ‘duh!’ “When I got sick filming  _Avengers_ , Chris would ssing it to me to make me feel better.”

“Maybe you should call Chris.”

“That is a fantaaaasstic idea.”

*dial tone*

**An hour later**

_Text message_

Did you tell Tom to call me and demand Soft Kitty? – Chris

I’d never heard of it. Have you been on the phone with him this whole time? – Anna

Yes. – Chris

I’m sorry. – Anna

Apparently, I am very beautiful. – Chris

Yes, you are. Did he ask you if Sauron was watching him? – Anna

No, but he did tell me he was burdened with glorious pills, and when I told him he had to go to sleep, he asked if it was because he was a frost giant and I didn’t love him anymore. – Chris

I’m so so so sorry. – Anna

And then he told me that he got to see an ultrasound of the baby, and I would be so proud of him because it wasn’t a wolf or a horse this time. – Chris

Did you manage to keep a straight face? – Anna

Barely. And then a PA came in with food and took his phone away from him. – Chris

Oh good. Thank you for being the brother he always wanted. – Anna

**Day Fourteen**

_Text_

I felt Sprite move today. It was like someone was blowing bubbles on my stomach, but from the inside. She was listening to you sing when it happened. – Anna

**Day Fifteen**

_Text messaging_

Andrea took me out for a night of mocktails and dancing. I think the relaxin has already started kicking in because my hips seem to move a lot easier than they used to. - Anna

Say on, my sweet mistress – Tom

Pity you aren’t here to test out this theory. I am so horny. You have no idea how much I want to just ride your face. Or your cock. Or both. – Anna

If I wasn’t due in front of a camera in five minutes, you would be in so much trouble right now. – Tom

Apparently some men think pregnancy is hot. People want to touch my belly. I want to punch them in the face. Also, I need new club wear. I was one wiggle away from a wardrobe malfunction. – Anna

You’re going to give me a wardrobe malfunction. – Tom

**Day Seventeen**

Voice mail from Tom: It’s a good thing I wasn’t on speaker and that I was alone when I listened to your message, because the sound of you bringing yourself to orgasm is very distracting. You will pay for this.

**Day Eighteen**

_Skype_

“Take off your knickers.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take them off.”

“Thomas!”

“No, don’t act shocked. What did you think was going to happen when you called me and recorded yourself coming?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Knickers. Off. Now.”

Anna bit her bottom lip but slipped off her knickers.

“Now, spread your legs.

“Really?” Anna could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Yes, I want to watch you make yourself orgasm.”

“Fine, but you take off your pants, too.”

He smiled and pulled them off.

“Exhibitionist.” She stuck her tongue out.

“I wish you were here. I’d give you something to do with that tongue.” His voice was husky already.

She came first. But just barely.

**Day Twenty three**

_Unsent e-mail_

Tom,

The house is empty without you here. It’s a different empty from when you are just out taking a run or going to the market. At those times, there’s still your energy here, as if the house is just holding its breath, waiting for you to come home to resume living. Now, it’s still, like an ancient patient comatose on a respirator. I look around and see memories, the ghost of your laughter as I sit on the couch from when I tickled you for control of the remote; at the kitchen table I see the sunlight illuminate your shadow, the incline of your neck as you lean in focusing on what I say, your eyes narrowing slightly, the slight part of your lips. The scent of you no longer lingers on your pillow, and I begin to forget the feel of your lips on the small of my back.

Anna

_Sent e-mail_

Tom,

Andrea took me maternity clothes shopping today. All the pregnancy magazines say to raid your husband’s closet and wear his button-down shirts over a cute pair of jeans. Apparently, most husbands aren’t as skinny as you, because between my boobs and my ever expanding belly, trying to get your shirts to fit me is like watching an episode of Sherlock. I’ve heard pregnant women talking about how they wake up one morning and their belly has just ‘popped out’ and that’s definitely happened to me.

I know you say not to worry about my weight, and I don’t, honestly, but I’m a little worried about how you’re going to view me. I mean, I definitely look pregnant. I seem to be one of the lucky ones that look like she’s stuffed a ball up her shirt, but still. I’m not sure how well looking sexy and looking pregnant goes together.

But, anyway, I now have t-shirts that fit me and some pants I can wear to work, but maternity jeans are like the ugliest thing I have ever seen. Maybe I’ll just wear pajama pants for the next five months. Or scrubs. With my belly hanging over the top. That will be attractive, I’m sure. Or I could just go for those low-rise jeans that require no underwear and a weekly waxing to wear.

I know your last week on set is going to be insanely busy, so don’t worry if you don’t have time to call. Get all the sleep you can.

I love you. See you soon.

Anna

**Day Twenty six**

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

That was all that Anna could think. And fuck. Shit and fuck together.

She was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by the books she had been carrying when she had slipped about half way down. Everything hurt. Her back where she had hit it. Her wrists from catching herself from landing square on her stomach. Her shins. The side of her head where she had hit it. She must have gone arse over teakettle. She didn’t think she had hit her stomach at any point, but god she was in pain.

She gingerly picked herself up and limped over to the table to call her midwife. She was told to come in right away to be seen, ‘just to be safe, dear. And bring someone with you to drive you home, just in case we need to give you something.’

She started calling friends.

Andrea – in surgery.

Ananti – in with patients.

Emma – to voicemail.

Cassie – in a deposition.

Victoria – to voicemail.

Kate – out of the country. Out of the country? Seriously?

She called three other girlfriends of decreasing degrees of intimacy before she made one last call. If this didn’t work, she would just call a cab.

“Anna, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this morning.”

“What are you doing right now?

“I’m recording some audio books. Why, what’s wrong?”

“I fell, and,” she was cutoff.

“I’ll be right there. Unless you need me to call an ambulance?”

“No, I just need a ride and a friend.”

Forty minutes later and Ben was helping her into the passenger seat of his Jaguar. She had spent the intermittent time checking her pants for blood every five minutes. So far there was nothing to see. They drove in silence, other than her giving him directions. They were ushered right into an exam room, and the midwife joined them a minute later.

“Okay, dear, let’s get you into an exam gown so we can see how much you banged yourself up.”

“I think that’s my cue to go.” Ben squeezed her hand. “I’ll be just outside the door if you need me.”

The midwife clucked over the scrapes and the bluish-purple bruises that were already blooming on her skin. “Now, dear, I just have to ask you. Did someone do this to you?”

“No! No, I just slipped on the stairs. My balance is a bit off these days, I guess.”

“That young man you’re with, he is not your husband. Is there something happening that you’re running away from?” The woman, who was probably sixty and had delivered hundreds of babies with gentle caring, looked like she would go to war for her if Anna just said the word.

Anna laughed and then winced as the motion jolted her sore back. “No, my husband is out of town for work and Ben is a good friend.”

“Okay, dear. I just want what’s best for you and the baby. Now let’s get you back up on the table.”

A few minutes later, she said, “Well, so far so good. Cervix is still nice and closed, no sign of bleeding. Let’s do an ultrasound to check on the baby, just to be safe, okay, dear?”

“Will you get Ben? Just in case…just in case. I want a hand to hold on to.”

“Of course, dear.”

Ben held her hand as the midwife did an ultrasound. Sprite seemed happy and content. She clocked the heartbeat for five minutes, having a machine print out the various fluctuations.

“Okay, dear, this is going to be cold.” She placed a plastic cup of ice on her stomach. Sprite kicked at it, moving herself away. “Oh, that’s what we want to see. Good heart rate, responsive to stimuli. Baby looks happy and healthy.”

Anna felt tears running down her cheeks. “Thank you.”

The midwife kissed her on her forehead. “You take care of yourself, sweetie. Hold on to railings when you’re going up and down stairs. You’re going to get more and more off balance as you go. Now, go home and put your feet up for the rest of the day. Alternate hot and cold on those bruises. And paracetamol for pain if you need it.” The woman turned to Ben, “Now, you come out with me while she puts some clothes back on.”

On the ride back to her house, Anna was quiet, staring at the pictures the midwife had given her. Ben looked over at her, concerned about her silence.

“Are you alright?”

“Just tired. And grateful that I’m the only one hurt.”

“It was…amazing. Seeing an ultrasound like that. I’ve never seen one.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I know it can’t be easy but I couldn’t get ahold of anyone and I just wanted someone I knew there with me in case, you know.”

Ben smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m always here if you need anything. Just because I don’t have children doesn’t mean I want to be left out of the lives of my friends who do.”

Anna looked down as her mobile rang. “Hi, Victoria…I fell and…yes, the baby is fine, I’m just banged up…I needed someone to take me to the midwife… You can come over and babysit me if you want. Thai food. Okay, I’ll see you then… Love you, too.”

When they got home, Ben helped Anna in the house. “You go lay down. I’ll wait until your friend gets here and let her in so you can rest.”

Anna hugged him tightly. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done with you.”

“I’m always here for you.”

That night Anna called Tom. “Do you have some time to talk?”

“I’m just about to go on my lunch break. I have about an hour.”

“You will not believe my day.”

“Oh really? What did you get up to?”

“First off, Sprite’s fine.”

He was suddenly much more engaged in the conversation. “What happened, Anna? Are you okay?”

“I slipped and fell down the stairs, and I have some bumps and bruises but I’m fine, just a bit sore.”

“Did you go to A and E?”

“No, I went to my midwife. Ben took me because I couldn’t get ahold of any of my friends and they recommended I bring someone with me just in case.”

“But you’re okay?” He needed to hear her say it again.

“I’m fine. I promise. Just bruised.”

“And Sprite’s okay.” He made it a statement, reassuring himself.

“Yes. In fact, she just kicked me.”

She could hear him let out a deep breath. “I’m so thankful you’re both alright. Are you resting? Should we have someone move the bed downstairs?”

She didn’t want to laugh at how concerned he was. It was really quite sweet. “I’m resting, and I’ll just hold on to the staircase. But wait, it gets better.”

“Well, anything that starts with you falling down the stairs has to get better.”

“So, Victoria called me back and said she would hang out with me this afternoon. But I fell asleep before she got there. And when I woke up three hours later I went downstairs and she and Ben were getting frisky on the couch.”

Tom choked on his drink. “They were doing what?”

“Major snogging! Like teenagers! Neither one had a shirt on and her jeans were undone and I’m pretty sure his were too.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.” She could barely contain herself. “I swear on Eowyn’s love for Faramir, I’m telling you the truth.”

There was a long pause.

“Isn’t she like a decade younger than him?”

“Yep.” Anna was practically bouncing up and down she was so giggly. She probably would have been bouncing if it wouldn’t have hurt so bad. “They turned every shade of red in existence. But they were texting back and forth the rest of the afternoon and evening, and apparently they are going to a play tomorrow.”

“Well. That could be a fortuitous occurrence. Out of all your friends, Victoria is the one I could see him with the most. If it hadn’t been for the age difference, I probably would have suggested setting them up already.”

“I know, right? It makes so much sense in retrospect. Vicki and Ben, sitting in a tree,” Anna started singing.

“Anna, they haven’t even been on a date yet,” Tom warned.

“I know. But it would be fantastic if it worked out, wouldn’t it? We would already like the spouse.”

**Day Twenty nine**

Anna woke up to someone crawling in her bed. She screamed and lashed out but he grabbed her arm. “Anna, it’s me. It’s just me.”

“Tom?”

He turned on the lamp on the bedside table while still holding on to her arm. “It’s just me, Anna. I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would scare you like that.”

“You weren’t due back until tonight.”

He let go of her. “I got an early flight. We actually finished early.”

She started gasping for air as adrenaline pounded through her system.  

“Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never would have done this if I had thought it would scare you like that.”

She let him hold her for a minute as she calmed down. She started rubbing a hand across her stomach in a soothing motion. “I woke up Sprite when I screamed. She’s quite upset with me.”

Tom stroked his hand across her belly. “I’m sorry, Sprite.” His hand suddenly stilled. “She just kicked me.” He looked up at Anna, awe and disbelief warring in his expressive eyes. “That’s Sprite moving, right?”

Anna smiled, all of a sudden forgiving him for scaring her. “Yes, that's your baby. I guess she wants to say ‘Welcome home.’”


	21. What's in a Name?

“No, we’re not naming her Eowyn.”

Anna put down her well-worn copy of  _The Return of the King_ and looked up at him _._ “Why not?”

Tom put the papers he was reading aside and looked down at her. She was resting her head on his lap, stretched out on her side while she read. He had been idly stroking her hair as he worked through proposed changes to a project he was considering signing on to. “Other than that Eowyn Hiddleston lacks a certain poetic elegance?”

“Well, how about Eowyn Thompson?”

“What?”

“She doesn’t have to have the last name Hiddleston,” Anna pointed out.

His hand stopped its travels across her hair. “But she’s…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Anna raised an eyebrow.

He looked away. When he answered his voice was quiet and controlled. “I just always thought that my children would have my last name.”

“She’s my child too, and I don’t have your last name.”

“Yes, well.” He picked up the stack of papers and started reading them again.

“Oh my god, are you still unhappy about that?”

“Can we not do this right now?” He waved the stack of papers at her.

“Fine.” She went back to reading her book. About ten minutes later, she looked up at him again. “How about Arwen?”

He didn’t look at her. “No, and we’re not naming her Galadriel either.”

“Why not? I’d be willing to go for Hiddleston as a last name if you agree to Galadriel,” she smiled up at him coaxingly.

He still didn’t look at her. “We’re not naming our child after a Tolkien character.”

“Why not? What makes Tolkien worse as a name source than Shakespeare?”

Tom finally set down his papers again and regarded her face. His own displayed a mix of confusion and irritation. “Because Shakespeare has normal names for his female characters.”

“Yes, because Hecate, Hermia, Hero and Hippolyta are such normal names for girls.” She rolled her eyes.

His jaw jutted forward a little in irritation. “I was thinking more like Isabella.”

“ _Twilight_.”

He just looked at her. That look that said ‘it’s a good thing I love you because you are really frustrating me right now so can we please stop talking about this?’ She lifted her book up in front of her face so he wouldn’t see the exasperated look she gave him in return.

They both went back to reading. Another ten minutes passed before Anna piped up again. “How about if it’s a boy then it’s a Hiddleston and if it’s a girl it’s a Thompson?”

Tom very carefully set down the stack of papers so that he wouldn’t throw them across the room. “So our children will have different last names?”

“Why not? They will have different first names.”

“Because I want them to be part of a family.” He said it like he was explaining something very obvious to someone who should understand this already.

“You don’t have to have the same last name to be family.”

“Obviously.” The word came out across gritted teeth. “But does it even matter to you that I want them to have the same last name? That I still wish you had taken my name?”

Anna pushed herself to a sitting position so she could more easily see his face. “I told you that you were welcome to take mine.”

“Yes, and Thomas Thompson sounds fucking ridiculous.”  His cheekbones were always so prominent when he got angry. There was something about the way that he held himself when he was trying not to lose his temper that made him all angles – jawlines and tendons and clenched lips.

“I’m going to go make myself some tea.” She got up and walked out of the bedroom.

When she didn’t come back after twenty minutes, Tom got up to look for her. She was sitting on the couch with her laptop open on her lap, a cup of tea balanced on the arm of the sofa. He wasn’t sure if she was ignoring him or just didn’t hear him as he walked up behind her. He was astounded to see the UK Deed Poll Service website was open on her laptop and she was entering information into the form.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Why…are you sure?”

“If it means that much to you,” she still hadn’t turned around to look at him, “then I’ll legally change my name. I’ll still be Doctor Thompson at work, but I’ll legally be Anna Persephone Thompson Hiddleston.” She took a deep breath. “And our children will be Hiddlestons, too. All one big family.”

He climbed over the back of the couch and sank down on the cushion next to her.

“Why now?”

“Because it matters more to you than it does to me.”

“I seem to recollect several rather heated discussions about this when we were engaged. Discussions where you threw words around like ‘patriarchy’ and ‘chattel.’ What’s changed?”

“Does it really matter? I’m changing my name and that’s what important, right?” She wasn’t meeting his eyes as she continued typing. Tom reached out and placed his hand over hers on the keyboard, effectively stopping her from filling out the form.

“The why matters to me. When you change, especially something this important to you, something that you’re willing to fight with me about, I want to know what’s going on.”

“You need this from me, and I don’t really understand why me having your last name matters so much because it’s just a name and it doesn’t change who I am in any way. ‘A rose by any other name,’ right? But you need this, so I’m doing it.”

He slid his hand along the side of her face, cupping her corner of her jaw. His fingers exerted a gentle pressure on her scalp as he turned her head towards him. “You are every flower under the sun.” He leaned in towards her, brushing his lips gently against hers. He pulled back far enough so he could focus on her eyes, and swiped a tear off her cheek with a brush of his thumb. “If changing your name makes you cry, then I don’t want this. I promised you only happy tears.”

“Why do you want this so much? Really. Not just because of tradition or symbolizing that two people have become one.” She reached out and touched his chest, the bare skin above the vee of his shirt. She looked into his eyes, trying to convey the gentleness through touch and look that the words wouldn’t allow. “Your parents shared a last name for all the good that did them.”

He slipped his hand over hers, pressing it against him. She could feel his heart beat against her palm, the erratic acceleration of stress skittering against her skin.

“Because they shared a last name and it wasn’t enough. And losing you would kill me. Your parents,” he paused and his eyes scanned her face and she nodded, giving him permission to say the words she could sense perched on his tongue, “your parents share a last name, but they’re not happy, and you weren’t happy either, growing up in that house.” He watched as she rubbed at the back of her neck with her free hand, subconsciously easing the tension that just thinking about her childhood caused in her muscles. “I know having the same last name isn’t a magic cure to any problems that we are going to face, but I will try anything I can to give us an advantage. And letting our kids know that we’re all part of a family – a team, a side, a clan, a group that extends beyond just convenience and sharing a house – is where I want to start. And I want them to know that regardless of what happens, we,” and he squeezed her hand, “are both playing on the same team.”

He stood up and started pacing around the living room. “There are all these arguments about whether or not divorce is harder on the kids than staying together. Either way, I got booted off to boarding school – an excellent and prestigious boarding school, yes – because my parents couldn’t figure out how to live together any more. And it wasn’t like there was anything seriously wrong, like cheating or drugs or abuse. They just didn’t love each other enough to make it work.” He stopped pacing and stared at the rug under his feet. “I wasn’t enough for them to make it work,” he murmured almost inaudibly.

Anna stood up, pushing herself up off the arm of the sofa, a little awkward in her increasing bulk. She walked over to Tom, and wrapped her arms around him. Her belly made the fit different than it had been for so many years, a little preview of the changes that were coming to their life together. She wanted to just hold him forever, to mend the broken parts of his heart with sheer force of will and the strength of her hands, but he couldn’t stand still. Words were itching to escape, words he had repressed for too long.

“And I want this to work, damnit.” He ran both of his hands through his hair, causing it to stand out all askew. “I want this to work more than I want anything in my life. And I want my children to have my last name so they know that whatever else happens in their lives that I am there for them and that they are not getting dumped in a boarding school when things get difficult. I want our children to grow up knowing that we all mean something to each other, something that is worth fighting for.” He strode back to her and took her face in both of his hands. “You choosing to take my name means you think I’m worth fighting for.”

“You’ve never spoken like this before.” She wondered what other sorrows he was keeping buried inside.

“Well, the addition of this little one,” he dropped a hand to her stomach, “has made certain matters much more important.”

“I promise, I will always fight for you, Thomas.”

“My parents just sort of,” he shrugged, “gave up. Figuring out what to do with me, with Emma and Sarah, it was like figuring out what to do with a piece of furniture. I mean, I know they love us, both of them love all of us, but,” he shook his head and sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I know. Nothing hurts the heart more than when what you want most in the world isn’t what the other people involved want, too.” She wrapped her arms around him again, and this time he let her hold him. She could feel him slowly relaxing in her arms, the tension fading from his back as they embraced. Anna was going to make him let go first.

He finally spoke, his lips against her hair. “You didn’t answer my question, though. Why now?”

“You mean other than that you’re a big famous movie star now and using your name gets me special treatment?” She said with a straight face, a giggle escaping as she saw the shocked look on his face melt away as he realized she was teasing.

“Yes, other than that, you cheeky little thing.” He bent down and nipped at her neck, shaking his head back and forth and growling. She laughed as his hair tickled her throat. It was like being attacked by an affectionate over-grown puppy. The nibbling inevitably turned to kissing and soon she found herself clinging to his shoulders as he traced hot patterns over her skin with the tip of his tongue. He finally lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes mere inches from hers. “Why now?”

“Because I’m not worried anymore about having to change it back.”


	22. There and Back Again

“Anna, have you seen that stack of scripts I had set apart?” Tom called up the stairs to where Anna was in the bedroom, double checking that she had packed everything for the trip.

“Yes.”

“Would you mind telling me where they are?” She could hear a hint of frustration in his voice.

“I hid them,” she yelled back.

“Why would you do that? I was going to take them with us on vacation.”

“That’s why I hid them.” She rolled her eyes.

“I have to read them.”

“No, you don’t. At least not while we’re on vacation.”

“Anna,” he started, but was interrupted by her yelling, “I’m your wife, I’m the greatest good you’re ever going to get!”

“What? Wait, are you quoting _The Incredibles_ at me?”

She turned to find him standing in the door of their bedroom. “Yes. I know it’s not Shakespeare, but I found it appropriate.”

“Why?”

“You are not a superhero. You’re not actually Loki.” She walked over to him and rested her hands on his waist and looked up into his face. “The world is not going to fall apart if you take one week off to relax. I haven’t seen you read anything not related to a project in ages. You’re stressed out about everything and you don’t have to keep trying to earn my or your forgiveness. You can take a week off and it will be okay.” She stroked his cheek gently.

He clenched his lips together, before relaxing them into a coaxing smile. “Sweetheart, you have to understand,” he said, but was cut off again.

“No, don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. We’re going to have a baby in three months. When we get back from Ibiza, you’re gone for seven weeks. You’re going to get back just in time for us to have a child and our lives are going to change forever. I’m asking for one week of being Tom and Anna, instead of Olivier-award winning actor Tom Hiddleston and his wife Dr. Anna Thompson,” she looked down at her belly and when she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost melancholy, “one last week of just being Tom and Anna before we become mum and dad.”

He bent his head trying to meet her eyes, but when she wouldn’t look up at him, he tenderly raised her face with a finger under her chin. “We will always be Tom and Anna.” His voice was gentler than it had been before. “I promise.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Even when we’re knee-deep in children, I will still find time to shag you senseless in the shower.”

She kissed him back, lips warm and adoring against his. “It’s not just about sex, darling,” she drawled the last word with a smile quirking the corners of her mouth, “it’s about time together. About you reading me poetry as I fall asleep, or me massaging the knots out of your back after a bad rehearsal, or us making crème brulee and accidentally setting the tea towels on fire with the blow torch.” He smiled, remembering the frantic search for tongs to throw the flaming cloth in the sink. “I want us to have more memories together, to make more memories together.”

“We will make memories together for as long as I have breath in my lungs to tell you I love you.” He clasped her face in his hands. “As much as I love our child, and any other children we may have, you,” and he kissed her once more, a long lingering caress, “will always be first in my heart.”

*

“Let’s just move here.”

The breeze off of the Mediterranean was coming in through the open French doors. Anna lay on the bed, bonelessly relaxed after a day on the beach. Both she and Tom had picked up a healthy glow after four days spent doing absolutely nothing but eating, sunning, and playing.

“Okay.” Tom agreed sleepily.

“Seriously. I don’t want to go back to my real life. I don’t want to wear shoes anymore. I want to live in a bikini and a maxi dress. I want you to grill freshly caught fish over a beach fire every night for dinner.”

He laughed. He was so relaxed even his laugh had taken on a slower quality.

“I feel like I’ve spent more time with you in the last four days than in the last four months.”

A happy noise accompanied him rolling over and snuggling up to her back. He draped an arm over her stomach and slid his other under her pillow. He nuzzled the back of her neck, pushing her hair out of the way with his face so he could kiss the tanned skin underneath.

“It’s been lovely, hasn’t it.” He spoke softly, interspersing his words with tender little kisses.

She smiled as she felt his lips move from her neck to her shoulder. “Very lovely.”

His hand started slowly creeping down her stomach and pulled up the fabric of his shirt that was tightly stretched across her belly. “I don’t know why you even bother putting this on. You know I’m just going to take it off of you,” he whispered against her ear.

“Because Chris and Elsa wander in and out of the house at their leisure, just like we do with theirs.” They had rented two beach houses cheek-by-jowl on Ibiza for a long week. “And as much as I love both of them, I don’t fancy flashing them the goods on accident.”

“Well, I think we’ve all settled in for the evening,” he murmured, his breath fanning against her ear, “so I’m going to remove this now.”

She rolled over as he tugged at the shirt, partly to help him remove it, and partly to face him.

“I’m serious, though,” she said as Tom nuzzled into her throat, his hand seeking out a breast to hold and lazily caress, “I don’t want to go back.”

“Then we won’t.” She could smell the salt tang of the ocean in his hair as he moved against her, slow slide of skin on skin that started to drive conscious thought from her brain.

“Are you even listening to me?” She shuddered as he kissed down the inside of her arm, a vacation’s worth of beard rasping against the delicate skin.

He smiled up at her, that devilish grin that even after all these years set off fireworks in her stomach and made her breath catch in her throat. “Not really.” He tugged at her knickers, sliding down the bed so he could pull them all the way off.

It’s amazing how the same word can mean entirely different things depending on how it’s said. Because she said “Thomas” and it meant, “I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re not even paying attention and that hurts my feelings,” and then she said it again, but this time it meant, “Oh my god, you can’t just kiss me there without any warning,” and the third time it meant “Please, more,” and again, “Oh, fuck yes.”

When they were both reduced to sated kisses and soft touches, they heard a voice from outside yell, “If you two are done, you should come outside and watch the meteor shower with us.”

A female voice responded with a scandalized sounding, “Chris!” and then Anna and Tom heard what they both assumed to be Elsa smacking Chris in the arm.

Anna blushed and buried her face in Tom’s chest as he yelled back, “We’ll be down in a few minutes.” Chris and Tom’s laughter blended together as she shook her head in embarrassment. Tom brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “We should probably put some clothes on.”

“I can’t go out there.”

“ _Mi bella stella_ , come with me. It’s too dark out there for them to see you blushing anyway.” He finally coaxed her into going back outside with him. Chris and Elsa were already stretched out in lounge chairs on the sand, watching the Perseids flashing overhead. Anna and Tom took up residence in the chairs next to them, linking hands on the armrest. They watched the stars spin slowly overhead, the sky streaked with periodic flashes of light.

“If this were a movie, we’d either be playing ‘Truth or Dare’ or we would get attacked by a monster right now.”

“Well, let’s be glad we’re not in a movie then, Chris,” Anna replied.

She could hear him laughing in the darkness, but didn’t bother to turn her head to look at him. “What, are you afraid of what you might get asked to do?”

“No, you guys just heard me have sex. I’m not sure it would get much more risqué than that, but I’m pretty sure that would make me the whore, so I would get offed first if this were a monster movie.”

Tom squeezed her hand. “You’re not a whore, darling. And besides, it can’t be a monster movie. We don’t have a virgin.”

Elsa piped up, “We could figure out who’s the least virginal. Play ‘never have I ever’ with only sex topics allowed.”

“It would be medically irresponsible to get as drunk as I would need to be to play that game.” Anna laughed. “You three are used to letting it all hang out in public, literally in Tom’s case. I still have a sense of shame.”

“Not from what I heard,” Chris muttered, deliberately being loud enough to be heard. Tom dissolved into laughter, and Anna picked up India’s beach ball from where it was laying in the sand near her chair and chucked it at Chris. He easily caught it, palming the ball with his large hand.

“Can you pick up India like that?” Tom asked.

“What, by her head?”

“With one hand.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried.” Anna looked over towards him, trying to read his face in the darkness. His tone was completely deadpan.

“Liar.” Elsa called him out on it.

Chris looked over at Elsa. “Honestly, I haven’t.” But then his gaze shifted to Tom. “We might have to try it tomorrow, though.” Chris and Tom started laughing again.

Elsa rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. “This is what you have to look forward to, Anna.”

“As long as Tom waits until the baby actually can control its head.” She grimaced suddenly and put a hand on her belly, pushing against the side of her stomach.

“Are you okay?” Elsa asked.

“Yeah, little one is just stretching. I can’t believe I have three more months of this to go. There’s no room left.”

Tom gently moved Anna’s hand out of the way and placed his hand where it had been. A few seconds later, Anna looked at him and shook her head, amusement and exasperation warring in her features. “Sure, she settles right down for you.”

Tom grinned at her. “I have magic hands. You’ve always said so.” Anna flushed in response to the look in his eyes. He knew exactly what that look did to her, and the way he was angled towards her, he knew that she was the only one who could see it.

“Behave yourself,” she mouthed the words. He smiled and mouthed back one word. “Never.”

*

Tom shut the door to his rented flat. For four weeks he’d come home each night to this empty flat at the end of shooting. He was exhausted physically and emotionally. Even at seven weeks they were running on a compressed schedule to get him home with time to spare for the birth of his child. It meant longer than normal days and fewer days off. It would be worth it, though, to be home with Anna sooner. Skype wasn’t enough for him anymore. Watching her growing bigger every day without him there beside her was starting to wear on him. He was losing concentration on set, getting short with the production crew, and having problems sleeping at night. His eyes drifted to the sealed envelope sitting on the coffee table. He’d found it when he had unpacked upon arrival. On the outside was written ‘for when you’re having a bad day’ in Anna’s precise hand. The last few days he had been tempted to open it, but today, after repeatedly flubbing a scene so badly they had spent three hours reshooting it he knew he needed to read what whatever was in that letter.

He flopped down on the couch and carefully opened the envelope. He pulled out the folded paper inside it and caught a whiff of Anna’s perfume, the one she only wore on special occasions and on nights in with him. The scent brought a cascade of happy memories, of awards ceremonies, and watching television on the couch while eating ice cream out of the carton together, and slow dances, and her wrapped around him, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He hadn’t even read a word and already he felt more relaxed and happier than he had in days.

_Thomas,_

_I love you. Hopefully that’s not a surprise. After almost seven years together you should know that. At least, I hope you know that._

_I have realized over the last few years that we’re not very good at communicating. I guess that’s not much of a surprise; look at how we started – six months of both of us thinking the other one wasn’t interested in a relationship. We’ve always just fallen back on sex to see us through when times get difficult. I realize that has largely been my fault. I tend to shove my emotions deep inside rather than talk about them. I’ve gotten better over the last few years, due to you. I trust you now more than I ever have. You’ve always been too good to be true, but I’ve finally just accepted that I live in a fairy tale and you are my Prince Charming. Or maybe my Henry V. ‘Breeches and boots,’ indeed._

_Maybe it would be easier to talk to you if you weren’t so devastatingly handsome. I know you just smiled self-deprecatingly when you read that and by some magic your face has shifted from that of a suave lothario to a bashful teenager. I love it when you get flustered. That’s probably not a nice thing to say, but I love watching you transform from my Prince Charming into a Disney princess complete with bashfully downswept eyelashes._

_I love you. I want to tell you that more in person, but when I see you face to face I get distracted by how beautiful you are. It’s not just that you are gorgeous. I am mesmerized by the freckle inside your left ear, and the slightly uneven alignment of your bottom teeth, and the way the right side of your bottom lip moves more than the left when you talk. I wish I was there right now so I could kiss that scar on your forehead that is only visible in certain lights when you have your eyebrows at the right angle. Even with other people in the room I still can’t concentrate when you look at me and half a smile teases your lips and you almost wink, but not quite, because I know what’s running through your mind. When you look at me like that, all I can think is ‘I love that man, and he loves me, and we’re going to be together forever.’_

_On vacation I realized anew how much I love you. I love your unfailing optimism. I love your flair for bad puns. I love your inability to talk without moving your hands. I love your compassion. I love how you fondle hardbound books. I love lying in bed with you at the end of the day, our faces so close they are almost touching and I can’t really focus on your face at that distance but I don’t want to be any further away from you as we catch up with each other after being apart, whether it’s been for hours or days. I love your laugh and the sound of you snoring and the way you sneak treats into the trolley when we’re at the market like I’m not going to know it was you. I love that you literally cannot walk past me without touching me in some way. I love listening to you talk to our baby. I love me more because of the way you love me._

_Miscarrying was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through, but it made us fight for each other. It made us both realize what we stood the risk of losing. I want to be together forever, but I also want to be together today and tomorrow and the day after that. I have a year of maternity leave coming. I want to use that time to figure out some way that we don’t spend weeks apart at a time anymore. It’s hard to live with half of your heart beating away on another continent._

_Thank you for being my Thomas._

_I’ll always be your_

_Anna_

*

Tom had been antsy the whole flight home. Normally he was able to sleep pretty well on planes, especially as tired as he was, but all he could think about was getting home to Anna. He had to force himself not to stand up the minute the wheels touched down in London. So intent on getting home, he walked right past Anna as she stood waiting for him in the terminal.

“Tom?”

The familiar voice snapped his head around. She smiled at him as he recognized her. Her hair was falling in soft waves down her back. A yellow tee hugged her curves, showing off her swollen stomach. She was wearing it over a long white and black chevron striped skirt. Even so simply dressed, she had never looked more beautiful to him. “I couldn’t wait until you got home to see you,” she said.

Two long strides and he had his arms wrapped around her. “I am home,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m home.” He felt a kick against his stomach. “Yes, Sprite,” he squatted down so he was face to belly with Anna, “Daddy’s home.” 


	23. Push

They say that your life flashes before your eyes at the end.

It’s true.

*

“I want to push.”

There was a distinct difference between understanding childbirth as a physician and understanding it as a mother. She had read about the need to push, but now it was all she could think of. No, she couldn’t even think; it was visceral. Her entire being had contracted down to one overwhelming desire. Push.

Anna didn’t even bother opening her eyes as she felt Tom and the midwife help her onto the birthing stool. She didn’t want to see any trepidation in Tom’s eyes. When Anna had broached the topic of having a home birth, he’d been surprised. But listening to her talk about the medicalisation of the childbirthing process from something natural that the body was designed for to an illness that needed to be managed by professionals, and after reading the countless articles she bombarded him with about the increasing rates of medical interventions across UK hospitals, he had warily agreed to a home birth attended by a midwife.

 

So far it was everything she had wanted. Getting to curl up on her couch and watch a favorite movie while the initial painless contraction worked their way through her system. Sitting in the shower while Tom’s hands and warm water worked away the building tension. Stretched out on her bed with her own sheets and pillows and no uncomfortable hospital gown, eyes closed but still knowing he was stretched out next to her. The feel of his hand gently touching her, helping her relax muscles that wanted to knot under the growing strain.

And now.

Push.

_“What is it now, Anna?”_

_Her mother looked up at her from the television programme she was watching._

_“I got picked to sing a solo in the school concert.” She was so proud of her achievement. She had been chosen and not Tiffany and Jessica. That would show them for being so mean to her this year. ‘We’ve decided we don’t want you to be our friend anymore.’_

_Her mother sighed deeply. “I guess that means we’ll actually have to go.” She turned back to the telly. “I hope it will be better than your dance recital.”_

_She turned and went up the stairs to her bedroom and shut the door quietly behind her. Her chin quivered as she blinked back tears. She pulled her well-worn copy of_ The Borrowers _off of her nightstand. She had purchased it at a charity shop with the money she had saved from the Tooth Fairy this year. Opening it at random, she sank into the world of Arrietty, a magical place where being invisible was a good thing._

“Come out baby, come out here where we can see you,” she whispered to the child within as her body gave her a momentary respite.

And push.

_“Dad, can I ask you a question?”_

_He looked up from the file he was reading for work. “Does it have to be now? This file is really important and I need to concentrate on it.”_

_“I was hoping you could give me some advice.”_

_“I don’t know anything about teenage girls. Go ask your mother. You’re her responsibility until you’re twenty.” He went back to reading his file._

She took a deep breath and stroked a hand over her stomach. “Come on baby, we’re going to do this together. You and me, we’re going to do this together, okay?” 

And push.

_“Your GCSE scores came in the mail today. Why did you only get an A in Economics?”_

_Anna didn’t even know how to respond. At this point, should she even be surprised at his response? The rest of the scores were A*s and he focused on the one A. Just like always. No matter what accolades she got, it was never enough._

_“You’re wasting your time on things like Humanities. You need to focus on something that is going to get you a job.”_

_“Yes, dad.”_

_“You can’t just plan on some man falling in love with you and supporting you like I did with your mother. You’re going to need to rely on your brain. You could be a doctor if you work hard enough.”_

_“I know.”_

She grabbed Tom’s hand. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can, dearest. I believe in you. I know you can do this.”

“It hurts too much.”

“I love you, Anna. You can do this.” He knelt beside her. “Look at me.” She turned her face to his. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, and he could see pain lines around her mouth and creasing her forehead. “You can do this. I promise.” She tried to smile and he leaned in to kiss her forehead gently. “I promise. Just listen to your body. Trust it. You can do this.”

And push.

_“I need you to put on your friend hat rather than your girlfriend hat.”_

_Her brow creased, wondering where his conversation was going. She switched the phone to the other ear. “Okay, what’s going on?”_

_“I may have gotten a girl pregnant over break.”_

_It was like getting punched in the stomach. “Oh.” She gnawed at her bottom lip as she tried to decide what to say next. “What happened?”_

_“The condom broke. And I just feel like I should be with her. I’ve liked her a really long time, since before we met, and you were home for break and we ran into each other and it turns out she likes me too. I feel like being with her is the responsible thing to do, right? I mean, if she’s having my baby and all.”_

_He wanted her permission to dump her, to not feel bad about dumping her. So she gave it to him. “Right. Of course it is. So, ummm, good luck with everything.”_

_She hung up the phone and sat on her bed wondering what to do now. Back to studying she supposed. The books were always there for her. Her brain was the one thing that had never let her down. She had been foolish to think she had been a long term option for a guy like him._

She breathed deeply, leaning against Tom’s unfailing support. He wiped the sweat from her face with a cool cloth as he quietly spoke to her. “You are so strong. You are so beautiful. You are so amazing.”

The need to push overwhelmed her again and she heard the midwife say, “This should be it.” She took a deep breath and bore down with all of her strength.

_Floor length dresses and restroom stalls were a bad combination, Anna thought for what was probably the millionth time. There was just no graceful way of managing that much fabric when you needed to use the loo, and after several flutes of champagne, she desperately needed to use it._

_She had just finished the precarious balancing act when she heard the door to the restroom open._

_“Did you see how good Hiddles was looking in that tuxedo?”_

_“Everybody saw how good he was looking. That man needs to wear pants under his trousers if he is going to wear them that tight.” The woman’s laugh sounded slurred._

_“Oh no, I like it when he goes regimental. It makes me want to lick him like an ice lolly.”_

_“Sarah!” The other woman tried to sound scandalized but it was ruined by knowing laughter._

_“Oh, come on. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it. Tell me you don’t fantasize about him when you’re lonely.” Anna wondered if she should let the women know if she was there before they went into any more details about their fantasies of her husband._

_“True. But I have a Tom of my own. Unfortunately, mine requires batteries.”_

_“It’s too bad he’s married. I’d throw myself under his bus any time, any place,” the first woman commented._

_“Yes, but he married her before he got really famous. You know Loki is going to be looking for an upgrade soon. Or at least a little action on the side. It’s why the ‘letter’ I wrote him has my picture in it. And my number.” Anna cringed at the gloating tone in the second woman’s voice as she speculated on the end of a marriage._

_“You didn’t!”_

_“I did. I’ve got a better body than she does, and I let him see all of it.”_

_She heard the door close behind them. ‘They must have finished fixing their makeup. Or shooting up,’ she thought uncharitably. She fixed a smile on her face and went out to rejoin Tom at the_ Thor _premiere party._

_Anna looked around at all the women in that room, wondering which ones she had been listening to surreptitiously. She slid her arm through Tom’s and he smiled at her. She wondered if the woman he had cheated on her with was here. He had been so attentive for the last year, but she wondered if it was just another masterful performance on his part, or if he had really changed. She loved him desperately, but she questioned if part of the reason she was still there was because she couldn’t deal with being a disappointment to her family yet again. All she wanted to do was cry, but that was not an option. Not here. Not in front of photographers and Tom’s friends. There would be no crying._

She let out a primal scream, channeling all the anguish she was feeling into a banshee wail of grief and pain and anger at all the times she had been told that she wasn’t good enough, that she would never be loved, that she would never accomplish anything of value. A high-pitched cry cut through her cathartic yell, and Anna felt jolted back into her body.

“Congratulations. You have a son.” The midwife placed a slippery purplish-red bundle into her arms, and Anna looked down into the face of her child for the first time.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered. She knew that she should be able to think of something more eloquent, but that’s all she could think as she looked at him. Her baby. She had done it. Her and Tom together. She felt the midwife kiss her on her forehead. “You were perfect. Absolutely textbook.” She smiled. “I’ll leave you three alone for a few minutes, and then I’ll come back in and we’ll finish up.”

Anna didn’t even bother looking up at her, entranced by the denim blue eyes in the little face she held. She looked up at Tom and saw the same wonder she was feeling. He reached out a finger and stroked the tiny hand, and she heard his breath catch as the infant wrapped it’s wrinkled little fingers around Tom’s big one.

He finally met her gaze. “You are magnificent. I’ve always loved your body, but watching you go through this was like watching an athlete at the top of her game. I know you hate running, but you won a marathon today.” He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, looking down at the quiet baby clutching his finger and then back at Anna. “You are a goddess.” She raised her face to him and he kissed her on the forehead, on the eyelids, on the tip of her nose, on both cheeks, and finally on her lips. “I have never loved you more than I do right now.” She could taste the salt of his tears as he kissed her.

“We should probably get him a blanket. It’s got to be cold out here compared to what he’s used to.”

Tom reached over and grabbed one of the small blankets that had been set out in preparation and tucked it over the yawning infant without ever letting the baby loosen his grasp.

“Welcome to the world, William,” he whispered, as he smoothed the blanket over his son. “Happy birthday, little boy.”

Anna couldn’t stop staring at that little face. She used a flannel to gently clean his cheeks and his forehead and he watched her intently. She knew he couldn’t really see her that much but it felt like he was analyzing her as if he was an artist standing back from a canvas in progress to see what had been created, checking to see if he was satisfied with his work.

She realized there was truth to that. She felt like a new person, like she had died and been born again as this new mystical creature called ‘mum’ that had a heart three sizes too big that she wore on the outside of her chest, and it would wander off on its own and get bumped and bruised and she wouldn’t choose to be anything else. Nothing else mattered now. It was her and Tom and little William. This was a new life, and everything felt different and perfect and completely unpredictable and she loved it with all of her being.

The midwife eventually came back with cold orange juice for Anna, and she efficiently dealt with the placenta and the umbilical cord and helping Anna into a warm shower. Anna watched through the glass as the midwife talked Tom through bathing William for the first time in the bathroom sink. Even through the water cascading down the door, she could see the combined trepidation and joy in has face as he held the slick little bundle steady and tried to clean the crop of blond hair at the same time.

She eventually ended up in bed again, which the midwife had remade so the sheets were nice and clean. Tom was already sitting there propped up against the headboard, holding William in his arms and softly singing him the lullaby that had become a nightly tradition over the last few months. She leaned wearily against his shoulder and looked down at the infant, fascinated by how quickly something so small could demand her intense adoration.

William started scrunching his little face up in frustration and trying to rub it against Tom’s arm. “What is he doing?” Tom sounded scared, as if he had broken the baby.

Anna smiled. “It’s called rooting. He’s looking for something to suck on.”

“Ah. I think that’s your cue.”

She took William back and held him against her chest, guiding his face towards her breast. He latched on like a pro and started nursing with ease. Anna savored the feel of the small warm weight in her arms and felt a huge knot in her stomach release and dissolve. After childbirth, nursing problems had been her second biggest concern. She looked up at Tom, who was watching the whole process with what she suspected was awe.

“He seems to know what he’s doing,” Tom murmured.

“Like father, like son,” she teased him, and Tom grinned at her. She snuggled into his side and his arm tightened around her. He stroked the fine hair on top of William’s head, needing to establish physical contact with this new part of his soul.

When the midwife came back to check on them, that was how she found them. Tom was stretched out on his back, Anna sleeping curled into his side with his arm wrapped around her. William was sleeping on his father’s bare chest, one large hand protectively placed on his back. She smiled at the new family and shut the door quietly, letting them savor the sacred silence of a sleeping baby in his parents’ arms.


	24. Maternity Leave

Anna and Tom had survived their first night as parents. Luckily, so had William. Anna was blearily sitting up in bed nursing him in the early-morning light when Tom came back into the room carrying a tray of food. “I made you some breakfast.” He fed her bites of omelet and wedges of orange while she fed William. When everyone was done, Tom took the baby from her. “You sleep. I’ll bring him back when he gets hungry again.” He kissed her on the forehead. As he headed out the door, she heard him say, “So, baby, now that you’ve had your main course, would you like some pudding?” She giggled and quickly fell asleep.

*

Anna was sitting on the couch watching her parents coo over William. Her mother had been miffed when Anna had asked them to wait a few days before coming to visit. Anna had insisted, though, and once assured that Tom’s parents weren’t coming either, they had reluctantly agreed to wait with just pictures to tide them over. The first few days had just been the three of them in a hormone-enhanced fog of happiness and exhaustion that gave them space and time to adjust to their new roles. That was how Tom had announced the birth on his Twitter account, after having called family and close friends first. “Father- the role of a lifetime! William Christopher Hiddleston, 6lbs, 14oz. 20.5”, 14 Nov 2014, 4:35pm.” The tweet and accompanying picture of him holding his son went viral. Congratulations started flooding in, quickly being supplemented by tweets from fans welcoming William by donating to UNICEF in lieu of a baby gift. Tom would hold William while scrolling through the pages of his Twitter feed, and say, “Look, William, look how many people love you already! And you’re just starting out. You may be the most loved baby in the history of the world! And you’re helping so many other children. Love and helping. The two most important things I will ever teach you, right from the beginning.” Anna fell in love with Tom all over again in those days.

She had answered the door to her parents with a knot of dread in her stomach. They had bustled in. “Where’s the baby?” her mother had asked.

“Tom has him.”

Her mother had patted her cheek. “You look so tired, honey. Is Tom not helping you enough? You should have let me come sooner.”

Anna had just smiled politely and closed the door behind them. She sat now, watching both of her parents babble at their first grandchild. She wondered if this is what they had been like with her as a baby. Tom came back in from the kitchen and handed her half a sandwich and absconded with her water glass to refill it. It felt like she was constantly eating and drinking, but Tom took very seriously the directions the midwife had given him about the nutritional needs of a nursing mother. When he came back, she grabbed his hand and tugged him down on the couch next to her. She leaned against him while she ate and he chatted with her parents about how William was sleeping and eating. He wrapped an arm around her and idly played with her hair.

“He’s really is a beautiful baby. He looks like his father,” Anna’s mother commented.

Richard added, “Congratulations, Tom. Every man should have a son.”

Anna stiffened under Tom’s arm. He turned to look at her and she could see anger in his eyes. She patted him softly on his thigh and stood up. “I’m feeling tired. I think I’m going to go lay down now.” She quietly left the room, and Tom listened to her walk up the stairs and close the bedroom door behind her.

Anna’s mother huffed. “Well, that was rude.”

“Really?” Tom was incredulous. “She had a baby two days ago and it’s rude of her to be tired?”

“Well, to just walk out like that,” Margaret responded.

“You know what I think is rude?” He stood and turned his back towards them, fighting down the anger he could feel mounting in his throat. “You two haven’t talked to her since you got here except to tell her she looks tired and imply that I’m not doing a good enough job taking care of her. And then, you say that she wasn’t enough for you as a father because she wasn’t born a boy.” Richard started to say something, but Tom wheeled around and cut him off, his hands clenching into fists. “No, you’ve said enough. It’s time for you to listen. That woman up there,” he pointed to the stairs, “is the most amazing, loving, forgiving person I have ever met. She gave birth to a beautiful baby who we would have loved just as much if he had been born a girl. She is strong and intelligent and beautiful, and you’ve told her all her life she wasn’t good enough. Well, now I’m going to tell you. You’re not good enough. You don’t deserve her as a daughter, and you don’t deserve William as a grandson. So, kiss him goodbye and get out of my house. Because no one gets to hurt my wife like that, not even her parents.”

Richard and Margaret looked at Tom with dumbfounded expressions. Margaret’s jaw hung open a little bit, and Richard started blustering, “How dare you talk to me like that.”

“I dare, sir,” and he stalked to Richard and took William from him, “because I actually love Anna, and I refuse to let her be treated with such disrespect. Now, stand up,” he snarled, “and get out of my house.”

“Well, I never!” Margaret stood and collected her purse and coat. “To think that I would be treated in such a manner by my own family.”

“Margaret, you’ve been telling Anna to get out of your life since she was a child. Well, now you get what you’ve wanted for so long.” He walked to the front door and yanked it open. “Maybe you should think about how you two have treated her for her entire life and realize that your actions have consequences.” He showed them out the door. “When you feel like apologizing, please feel free to call me. I can’t let you talk to her until I’m sure you aren’t going to hurt her again.”

He shut the door quietly. He wanted to slam it but he didn’t, so that he wouldn’t startle William who was sucking on his fingers in the crook of Tom’s arm. “Come on, little boy. Let’s go get you a clean bum and then we’ll see if Mummy has a snack for you.”

Tom brought a clean William to his mum. Anna was lying in bed, her eyes shut, but he could tell by her unsteady breathing that she wasn’t asleep. “Sweetness, are you up for feeding William?” he asked softly. She nodded. He sat down next to her on the bed and drew her against him with his free arm. Once she was situated, she took William from him. The three of them cuddled together, the only sound breaking the silence was the sound of William swallowing.

Tom finally asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Besides engorged?”

“Yes.”

Her voice sounded smaller than it had in ages. “Mad at myself for expecting anything different from them. Dreading having to go back down there and be with them.”

“You don’t have to.”

She smiled sadly. “I can only hide up here so long.”

“No, I mean, I made them leave.”

She looked at him in shock. “You did what?”

“I kicked them out. Nobody gets to treat you like that in our house.” He was indignant just thinking about it.

“Tom!”

“What? Nobody gets to make you feel like you have to hide in your own home.”

Anna thought about that for a while. “So where are they now?”

“On their way back to Bristol, I would assume. I really don’t care.”

Disbelief warred with gratitude on her face. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Why not?”

“You’re just always so…polite? Accommodating?” She searched for the right word. “You don’t like to hurt peoples’ feelings.”

“Well, if I have to choose between letting them hurt you, and hurting them, I will always choose to protect you.”

Anna slipped her pinky finger into the corner of William’s mouth to break his latch so she could change sides. He was not happy about being interrupted mid-meal but the fussing cut off mid-cry as he latched on again. He made a gulping sound that caused both Anna and Tom to laugh. She stayed watching the little figure in her arms as she spoke. “Thank you.” Tom could barely hear her. “I’m not sure I ever would have had the courage to do what you just did. So, thank you.”

He cupped her chin and turned her face so she was looking at him. “You don’t have to do anything by yourself anymore. We’re in this together.”

*

“I know, I’m a mean daddy, aren’t I?”

Wills fussed crankily.

“But you need your tummy time, don’t you? It’s good for you.”

Anna smiled from her spot curled up on the couch as she watched the contrast between her long husband laying on the floor and the small baby he was facing.

“Come on, look at your daddy.”

Wills pushed himself up on his hands and looked at Tom, eliciting a huge grin from his father. “Good job! Now come get the lobster!” Tom held out the bright red lobster rattle and shook it. Wills reached for it but couldn’t quite get his arm and head to work together yet to grab the toy. Tom scooped up his child and rolled over onto his back, placing Wills on his chest. “Is that better?” Wills gummed his fist in response.

“Oh, are your fingers tasty?” Tom brought Wills’ other hand to his mouth and nommed noisily on his fingers. “Oh, so tasty,” he exclaimed and Wills laughed.

Tom looked at Anna. “Did he just laugh?”

Anna grinned back at him. “That’s what it sounded like to me.” Tom nommed on Wills’s fingers again and was greeted by another peal of laughter. Tom grinned. “That sound is sweeter than a standing ovation.”

*

Tom’s favorite time of day was now the middle of the night. Wills would wake up around two and Tom would cuddle him up and take him downstairs. There, in the dim light of the kitchen he would warm a bottle of breastmilk while singing softly. Wills had an eclectic taste in music like his father. He particularly enjoyed Shakira. Once the bottle was warm enough, Tom would settle down in the living room with Wills in one arm and a book in the other. Currently, they were reading the collected adventures of Winnie the Pooh. Some nights Tom would tuck him back into his cot after he was done eating; other times they would nod off together and sleep in the big chair until either Wills demanded another feeding or Anna needed to nurse. If she was lucky, she would get six hours of uninterrupted sleep that way.

Anna’s favorite time of day was bathtime. Wills loved the water, and would splash for hours if she would let him. He had a favorite rubber duck that he tried to eat on a regular basis, but he seemed content to just hang out in the warm water and relax. Sometimes, Anna would take him in the big bathtub with her where they would play together, sometimes with bath bubbles. After bath she would nurse him and then tuck him into his cot. The bath-boobs-bed routine calmed them both down at the end of the day, and made Anna feel more like a mother than anything else she did.

*

Anna sank into the kiss. He’d been away for three weeks and now, even with the harried passengers swirling around them in the terminal, the only thing she could focus on was him. The feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, the sound of her name on his tongue. She eventually pulled away, and Tom bent down and kissed Wills on the top of his head. “Welcome to Prague, little boy.” William shrieked happily and grabbed at his daddy’s beard. “I missed you, too.”

He looked back up at Anna. “Do you want me to take him?”

“No, he’s fine in the wrap. I did check the luggage though, so I’ll let you carry that.”

That night, Tom joined Anna in bed.

“You finally let him go?” Anna teased him gently.

Tom smiled at her. “I’ve missed the little guy. Almost as much as I’ve missed you.”

Anna snuggled into Tom’s side, resting her head on his shoulder. She had missed the feel of him holding her while he was gone. “I’m glad you had a four day break in filming so we could come join you.”

“I would have come back to London.” He kissed her on the top of her head.

“I know, but I wanted to see what travelling with a child is like.”

“And your thoughts so far?” He tried to look at her face, but he couldn’t see it at this angle.

“Well, as long as we go someplace that has a market for food and nappies, it seems okay. Wills was great on the plane. Nursed on takeoff and fell asleep and woke up when we landed. I miss his little bouncy chair, but that’s not a big deal for a few days. If we were to come for longer – like for several weeks,” she looked up at him, gauging his reaction to the idea, “we could get one wherever we were, and then donate it to a community center or something like that when we were done.”

“You’re suggesting that you would be open to coming with me on location?”

“When it’s possible. I know some projects it wouldn’t make sense, but if you’re just filming in New York or LA or something, there’s enough that Wills and I could do during the day. And I know you would be working crazy hours,” she went on hurriedly, “but,” her words were cut off by Tom’s mouth crashing down on hers.

“You make me so happy,” he said when he finally pulled away. “I was hoping to convince you over the course of this weekend to start thinking about travelling with me again. I know you’ve said before that you didn’t want to, but I have missed you and Wills more the last three weeks than I can even put into words.”

“I’ve felt the same way. I shot you down for suggesting it when I was pregnant, but the last nine months with Wills have been splendid. And when you were home and it was the three of us together, I was happy. Completely and totally happy. So, I decided that I can change my life if I want and do something new if I want and I don’t have to be the person that I was before when I was trying to make everyone else happy. I want me to be happy.”

“Come here,” he tugged her closer, “and I’ll make you happy.”

Anna laughed and kissed him. “I don’t know how much happier I could be.”

Tom smiled and nuzzled her neck, making her laugh as his beard tickled her throat. “I bet I can make you happier.” He nipped at her shoulder. “And I think you know I can considering you came to bed naked.”

She laughed as he squeezed her bum with one hand. “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice that.”

“I was trying to be a gentleman and listen to you rather than just ravish your body.”

“We’ve been apart for three weeks. I  _want you_  to ravish me. I  _dare you_  to ravish me.”

He smiled up at her cheekily. “Challenge accepted.”

An hour and a half later, she collapsed on his chest. She managed to pant out two words. “Challenge completed.”

They spent the next few days playing “what if.” What would you do if you could do anything? Tom said he wanted to do three big projects a year; one theatre production, preferably in London though Broadway would be an option, one movie project in London, and one movie project anywhere. That, combined with publicity tours and smaller projects like voice work and short films would keep him busy but still give him time with his family and his growing involvement with UNICEF. Anna debated whether or not she wanted to keep practicing medicine. She didn’t think she had it in her heart to go back full-time while Wills was little. An organization that flew kids from the developing world to London for medical treatment was interested in her volunteering for them. Perhaps that would keep her busy.

One afternoon, as Tom and Anna snuggled on the couch while Wills was napping, Tom said, “I wish I could guarantee that there would always be projects I wanted to pursue in London.”

“How could you make that happen?”

He looked thoughtful. “Short of starting my own production company, I’m not sure.”

“Well, then start your own production company.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy.” He rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly, like he was trying to work out a kink.

She sat up and turned so she was looking at him, leaning against the back of the couch rather than his chest. “Why not?”

“Well, money, first off.”

“You know everyone in the industry. You have impeccable taste. You’re hugely involved in the London film scene. Surely part of it is just putting the right people in the same room together.”

He nodded. “Well, that’s part of it. But then there is the day-to-day running of a company – financials, logistics, contract enforcement, project discovery – that has to happen.” He looked overwhelmed.

“So, hire people. Victoria, or should I say the soon-to-be Mrs. Cumberbatch,” she laughed, “is an accountant. Ben is always looking for London based projects. The two of you agree to star in something and people will line up to throw money at you.” She mimed people throwing wads of cash.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” he laughed.

“I do. I remember when we started dating you laughed when I said you would be world famous, but I was right.” He smiled as she poked him in the chest. “I believe in you. I’ve gotten a lot of managerial experience at the hospital being an assistant administrator. If you just need someone to come in and make sure all the people are at the right places at the right time, and all the forms are filled out correctly, I could help with that. I ran a surgical theatre, so I’m used to the timeline coordination aspect of things.”

“This would be such a huge undertaking.”

“So start with something small. You don’t have to be Peter Jackson. See if you like producing. It’s not like actors never make the transition. George Clooney, Ben Affleck, Zachary Quinto, other people I can’t think of right now,” she laughed, “and you know, just float the idea to some of your friends, see what happens. You can’t be the only one who has ever wanted to do something like this.”

“You really think I could produce?” His eyes searched her face for reassurance.

“I think you can do anything you set your mind to. If you don’t want to, then that is fine. But I don’t want you ruling out producing just because you don’t think you’re capable of it.”

“You are my biggest source of support. I think you believe in me more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled at him. “It’s only fair. You believed in me when no one else did. Not even myself.”

He brushed his thumb against her cheek. “I just helped you see how amazing you really are.”

She was silent for a long time, leaving her face resting against his hand, until he asked what she was thinking about.

“How far we’ve come. From that fight in our kitchen where I kicked you out, to here, cuddled in your arms in Prague, planning possible futures, while our baby sleeps in the next room. How much more I trust you and love you.”

“You and Wills are the center of my life. As long as I hold on to you two, the rest will sort itself out.” He kissed her softly. “I love you, Anna. I always have. I always will.”


	25. Epilogue

“William Christopher Hiddleston, you go put some clothes on!” Anna called out to the five year old who had just streaked past her into her bedroom. She could hear William laughing and the nanny Stephen helping Jonathan in the kids’ bedroom as she sat on the couch nursing. She looked down at the six month old girl in her arms and smiled. “That’s right, Lucy. It won’t be so cute when he’s twenty-five, will it?”

She watched as Tom, dressed in a tuxedo except for the coat, came out of their bedroom with Wills tucked under his arm like a rugby ball. He stopped to kiss her on top of her head, making sure not to mess her hair, and then continued on, carrying a laughing Wills back into his room to get him dressed. Wills cheerfully waved at her as he disappeared into his bedroom, eliciting a smile she couldn’t suppress. She looked down at the little girl who was watching her with big blue eyes. “Yes, I know little girl, I’m going to leave you with the boys again tonight and your cousins are coming over as well, but don’t worry, there will be adults here to protect you.”

 

Hotel suites were starting to feel like home. One room for her and Tom, another room for the kids (though it might be getting to the point where they would need two rooms, she thought), and a third room for Stephen. Wills and Jonny both had their own carry-on bags that they packed themselves and carried on to planes. They had grown up travelling and had better airplane etiquette than most adults. Of course, the fact that both of them had the mess of wild blond curls and huge blue eyes that they had inherited from their father made it easy for them to flirt extra cookies and pretzels out of the flight attendants, which always helped their behavior.

After the Golden Globes, SAG Awards, and BAFTAs in the last few months, the children had fallen into an award night routine. Mummy and Daddy would get all dressed up, and then their cousins would come over and play while Mummy and Daddy were gone. They would go swimming for as long as they wanted, and then get to eat until they were stuffed and then watch movies until they fell asleep. Tonight was the last of the major awards ceremonies for the next few months for which Anna was profoundly grateful. This year had given Anna a whole new take on how stressful these evenings could be.

Tom came and sat down next to her on the sofa. He kissed her bare shoulder as he slid an arm around her. Quiet moments were few and far between lately, and they made the most of every one they could find.  She leaned against Tom, resting her head on his shoulder, inhaling the subtle scent that he always carried. It was the most calming thing she had ever found.

The door to the suite opened and Sofi walked in and looked at her reproachfully. “Really, you are still in your dressing gown?” Sofi smiled, though, having done this routine countless times with her in the last six months. Anna smiled as she handed Lucy and an urp-cloth to Tom. He’d learned with Wills never to hold a baby in a tuxedo without a protective barrier in place. Tom stood with Lucy in one arm and helped Anna to her feet and kissed her. “Go, I’ll burp her and get her situated.” She smiled and kissed him once more. He hadn’t even needed to say that. She knew he would take perfect wonderful care of their daughter, something he had proved with all three of their children.

Sofi hustled her into the bedroom where her gown was laid out on the bed waiting for her. “Okay, arms up.” Anna did as she was told, reflecting on the irony that the most grown-up outfits she wore required someone to help dress her as if she were three again.  Sofi straightened the voluminous skirt and then helped her into the wrapped bodice that would make it possible for her to pump at some point through the evening without having to get undressed. This design had been her favorite out of the fashion challenge she had sponsored along with Elsa and Victoria – beautiful couture gowns for the pregnant and nursing mother. They had done it just to raise awareness about the growing (literally) number of women who were mixing motherhood with their careers, but the designs that had been submitted were so beautiful that they had been approached about sponsoring a line of high end maternity and nursing wear. That idea was sitting on the back burner for now.

Sofi touched up her makeup and pronounced her ready to go just as Anna heard a knock at the hotel door.  She slipped on her heels and went out into the living area where Tom had opened the door to a herd of adults in formal gear and kids in swim clothes.

Benedict and Victoria and their four came in first. Benedict had gotten his wish to be father. They had been blessed with two sets of twins in three years, and Victoria was visibly pregnant again, this time with a single boy. Their nanny followed with a bag of what Anna assumed were pyjamas for the little ones. Chris and Elsa showed up a minute later. India ran right over to Lucy and started cooing at her. Their two boys tackled Wills and Jonny. Another nanny followed.

Luke, who still managed Tom along with heading publicity for their production company, brought up the rear, looking meaningfully at his watch. Tom laughed and ducked into the bedroom to get his tuxedo coat.

“Everything’s in the car?” Anna asked Sofi quietly. Sofi nodded. “Your dress for the afterparty, the emergency kit, and your breastpump. And Luke was putting Tom’s suit in the car when I was there.”

Anna nodded and took a deep breath.  Tom came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. “You’ll be fine, darling.”

“Okay, before we leave, let’s go over the rules,” she called out to the kids. “Wills, what’s the first rule?”

“No throwing things.”

“Especially?” Tom prompted.

“At people,” Wills answered, looking down at his feet. Tom smiled and tousled his hair. “Good job.”

“What’s the second rule, Jonny?” Anna asked.

“Hands are for hugs, not for hits.” He responded with the slightest hint of a lisp.

“That’s right.” Tom held out his hand for Jonny’s enthusiastic high five.

“And what’s the Lucy rule?” Anna asked.

“Lucy is not a toy.” William answered.

“Do we give Lucy toys?” Chris asked.

“Not unless Stephen says it is okay,” India answered, a little bashfully. Luckily Stephen had caught India giving Lucy the toy ring and had confiscated it before it had been swallowed. Chris smiled at his daughter.

“And how do we touch Lucy?” Benedict prompted, raising an eyebrow at his son.

“Gentle touches,” Timothy answered. Last time they had all been together, Wills and Tim had gotten into a contest to see how hard they could poke the baby without waking her up.

“And what’s the most important rule?” Tom looked at all of them, trying to keep a stern look on his face and failing miserably, as the flock of children looked up at him excitedly.

“Obey all the grownups!” they chorused in response.

Anna laughed.

“Okay, children, come get hugs and kisses.” She kissed all of her own and a few of the others on the way out the door. These kids had grown up together and were as close as siblings in many ways, thinking the nannies were just additional aunts and uncles, like Uncle Chris or Auntie Tora. Jonny had dubbed Victoria that when he was still learning to speak and it had stuck.

As the adults were heading down to the waiting limo, Elsa said, “I feel like we should give the nannies combat pay for nights like this.”

“I let Stephen go through the goodie bags they give us and take what he wants. He says it’s better than Christmas.” Anna laughed.

“Oh, that’s a good idea!”

“And it’s not like this is that bad of a gig. The kids are all asleep by ten and we pick up their room service tab,” Tom added.

The drive to the Oscars red carpet was long but never boring. With all six of them in the limo together, Anna couldn’t blatantly tease Tom to get him sexually frustrated before the ceremony, but there was still enough surreptitious contact for him to lean over and whisper naughty promises of retribution in her ear. Anna’s least favorite part of the ride was the last few minutes where they were waiting for their turn to get out of the car. Finally, they got to disembark. Tom grabbed her hand in his, said, “Smile,” and helped her out onto the red carpet. She could hear fans screaming his name even amid all the noise and commotion. Sofi and Luke were there waiting for them and started them down the carpet.

“We’re here with what may be one of Hollywood’s new power couples, Tom and Anna Hiddleston.” The reporter turned to face them. “Between the two of you, you could take home four statues tonight. How does it feel to have worked on a project like this together?”

Tom answered the first question. He always did, giving Anna a minute to catch her breath. Even after the awards blitz they had been through this year, and smaller publicity tours on previous projects, she never felt as comfortable in front of the camera as he did. “It’s a real blessing to be able to work with the ones you love in this industry, because the nature of the job is normally to create a transient lifestyle that is hard on families.”

“Now, that’s why you two created your own production company, isn’t it?”

Anna answered this one. “Yes. It was after the birth of our first child and we were trying to figure out how to spend more time together as a family. Tom made a flippant remark about starting his own production company and it kind of took off from there. We talked to Ben and Tora about it, and they both thought it was a wonderful idea, and here we are.”

“You are, of course, talking about Benedict Cumberbatch and his wife Victoria, the other two producers of  _Slouching towards Bethlehem_ , which is up for best movie and has also earned Tom a Best Director nod and Anna a Best Original Screenplay nomination. How do the four of you split up producer duties, or do you all sort of overlap?”

“Anna does the majority of the pre-production work. She has a real gift for seeing the potential in scripts and in books. She’s also wonderful in casting. She has great instincts in knowing which actors can take roles to a higher level. And then she also runs the logistical side of things, and sort of is the ‘mother’ of the group. She’s got an amazing loving heart and can get us all, from the people doing the lighting to the costuming to the actors to work together without any drama. Unless that’s what the script calls for.” He laughed at his own joke. “Ben and I make most of the artistic decisions, and Victoria runs the budget, which is probably the hardest job, because Ben and I would sit around on the set reshooting scenes for hours to get the absolute perfect shot if we had our druthers, and she’ll tell us, ‘You have fifteen minutes and then I’m cutting the power to the building.’ We all talk to each other of course, but if you put me in charge of logistics people would be three hours late in the wrong costumes and we’d starve to death on location.”

“So, Anna, since you wrote the screenplay, did you get more involved in the artistic side this time?”

“A little. When I wrote the script I had certain people in my head I was imagining, and I was lucky that I got all my choices for the main characters. But living with Tom, he had heard me talking about this script for a few years and had helped me figure out problems I was having with it, so we had pretty much the same vision for it when it went into production.” She laughed, “I will admit I did hang out in the editing bays more on this project than I had on previous ones though.”

“Did giving your baby to Tom to direct cause any additional stress compared to when it hasn’t been your script he’s directed?”

“I trust Tom with my actual babies, so I wasn’t worried about how he would treat my screenplay, no.”

“Tom,  _Slouching towards Bethlehem_ has garnered acting nominations for Best Actor for Chris Hemsworth, in what many are calling a career-changing performance, Best Actress for Ruth Wilson, and Best Supporting Actor for Benedict Cumberbatch. Are you going to talk Anna into writing her next screenplay with a starring role for you?”

“I’m not sure we’ll be able to afford her next script. I’ve seen the list of people who have called about her next project. I don’t think our little company can compete with some of those names, so I’ll be auditioning to perform her work just like the rest of the world.”

“Anna, you said you wrote this script with certain actors in mind. Why didn’t you write a role for Tom?”

“Because I don’t have to pay him to get him to dress up in costumes for me.” She smiled cheekily and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Seriously, though, this was the story that wanted to be told, and none of the characters were visually a Tom. And besides, he already has a Best Actor Oscar. He can share the wealth.”

The first interview was repeated with minor variations as they made their way down the red carpet. Tom would periodically run over to the bleachers to sign things until Luke would haul him back to talk to the next reporter. Anna would chat with other celebrities in between interviews. Though most of them were better friends with Tom than with her, she had made her own group of friends at these events, especially with those who were politically involved. She had jokingly been named the captain of the  _World Breastfeeding Tour_  as pictures of her work for Doctors Without Borders and the trips she and Tom took for UNICEF unfailingly had pictures of her nursing one of her children in hotspots around the world.

They finally made it into the theatre. Ushers showed them to their seats and they had a few minutes to just sit and relax before the ceremony got underway. Tom held Anna’s hand, stroking it with his thumb. “Just remember to keep breathing,” he whispered to her. She clutched his hand, trying to focus on him rather than the swirl of black tuxedos and gowns in every color of the garden that moved around her. She was incredibly grateful when the house lights lowered to signal the start of festivities.

“And the Oscar goes to Anna Thompson Hiddleston for  _Slouching towards Bethlehem.”_

She knew her jaw dropped and all the color faded out of her face. She shakily stood as people around her reached out to congratulate her. Tom stood and wrapped his arms around her, swinging her in an exuberant full circle in the aisle. “I’m so proud of you.” Once she was back on her feet, she shakily made her way up to the stage, holding up her skirt so she wouldn’t trip on the hem on the stairs.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening,” Anna said, her voice trembling, as she clutched the Oscar she had just won. “I want to thank Ben and Ruth and Chris for bringing my script to life in such a magical way. I also want to thank them for being amazing friends and part of the family that I chose for myself. I want to thank my friend Andrea for always pushing me out of my comfort zone. And most of all, I want to thank Tom for being my heart and soul. He is the one that gave me courage to pursue writing, and he gave up a lot of his own time to make sure I had a room of my own to write in. I never would have been able to do this without his unfailing love and support.” Her gaze was fixed on Tom, mostly because she loved him and wanted him to know it, and partly because as long as she was looking at him, she could ignore all the other hundreds of people in the theater. He blew her a kiss and she could see him mouth the words, ‘I love you.’ “And last, I want to thank my children for sharing their mom with a computer.”

That was the first of many awards that  _Slouching towards Bethlehem_ took home that night. Ben, Ruth and Chris all won Oscars for their acting, and Tom won for best director. “I want to thank my amazing wife Anna for trusting me with her heart, her children, and her craft.” Ben and Tom had to be rushed through the press room so they could be back in their seats in time for the winner of the Best Picture award to be announced. Even after all the awards the film had won in the last few months, Anna was still shocked when they won the Oscar for Best Picture.

They let Tora speak first, since the other three of them had already been up there that evening. “How to give an Oscar acceptance speech is not something covered when you study accountancy, so I’ll just be brief and say that I am so grateful for the day that I bumped into Anna in a bookshop, and even more grateful for the day that she introduced me to the man that would be my husband, and a third time grateful for giving me the opportunity to create beauty in a world that lacks it so much of the time. I want to thank Ben for taking a chance on a girl whose first words to him were, ‘Oh my fuck, you’re Benedict Cumberbatch.’” The audience laughed as she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t have said that on American telly. But that’s what I said to him.” She laughed again and Ben, grinning broadly, slipped his arm around her waist, silently reassuring her in her embarrassment. “And I want to thank all the people who watched and loved and supported this movie. This may be a night to honor the ones who put the magic on the screen, but what we do would be impossible if it weren’t for the ones who fill the seats.”

Tom and Ben gave a combined speech where the two of them thanked just about everybody ever associated with the film in their inimitable British politeness. And then Anna said, “I just want to tell all the kids out there who love books and words and art and music to never give up on your dreams. Beauty is as essential to the human experience as science and technology, so never stop creating what you love. The world needs you to be true to yourself and to your heart.”

Early in the morning, they entered their hotel suite again. The nannies had taken the other children back to their own rooms, and the suite showed little sign of the evening’s festivities. Tom and Anna left their Oscars on the coffee table and went to check on their children. Wills and Jonny were sprawled bonelessly in their beds, blankets kicked off and peacefully dreaming. Lucy was snuggled in a sleeper in her cot, her fist up by her mouth. She had obviously been sucking her thumb until she fell asleep. Brows were kissed and blankets straightened. Wills awoke briefly, smiled up at them and then rolled over and was back asleep. Jonny slept straight through.

They shut the door quietly behind them. In the middle of the living room, Tom took Anna’s hand in his. “Can I have this dance?” She smiled an answer at him and he drew her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, their hands clasped over his heart. Their pre-awards show dance had morphed over the years into a post-awards show routine, but it still served its purpose.

“So, Anna Hiddleston, Oscar-award winning screenwriter, what do you plan on doing next?” Tom asked after a few minutes.

“Besides you?”

His laugh was more of a rumble in his throat.

“I have some ideas.”

“Would you care to share them with me?” He pressed a kiss against her temple.

“I want to write more. I have all these ideas running through my head and I want to have more time for them.”

“Then do that. How do we change what we’re doing now to give you the time you need?”

“I want to give up the logistics part of producing. I’ll keep doing the project development part, because I’m really good at that. But the logistics part was just something I’ve been doing because it needs to be done, not out of any special talent or love for it.”

“Okay, do you have anyone particular in mind to replace you?”

“Really, you’re okay with this? Just like that?” She looked up at him, a tinge of surprise showing in her eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We just won an Oscar and now I’m going to break up the band.” She looked over his shoulder, not wanting to see if he was actually disappointed in her.

He freed his hand from hers long enough to tilt her face back towards him. “We started this company to make our dreams come true, not to win awards. The Oscars,” he laughed and then added, “and BAFTAs and Golden Globes,” he chuckled again, “are nice, but they aren’t the point. So if you have new dreams that require us to change, then we change.”

“You are unreal, you know that?”

“No, I am very real.” He rubbed his hips against hers and she could feel his desire for her. “But my love for you is stronger even than my lust.” He kissed her gently. “So, who do you suggest we replace you with?”

She gazed up at him, reveling in the love she could see in his eyes before she responded. “Sofi. She knows that job inside and out, she’s better at it than I am already, and it’s ridiculous that someone of her talent is being my executive assistant rather than being an executive in her own right. She’s been Pepper to my Tony for the last few years, and she’s ready for it. That’s why I pushed to have her credited as Assistant Producer.”

“Okay, we’ll talk to Ben and Tora tomorrow and see what they think. Any other changes you think we should make at the same time?”

“I think Luke needs to move to publicity full time. Watching him run an Oscar campaign while trying to manage you was too much for one person.”

“But Luke’s been with me since the beginning.”

“Well, then you and Luke need to hire more staff for awards season. He’s getting run ragged, and that’s not fair to him. So talk to him and see what role he wants going forward. Maybe he’s tired of chasing you down on red carpets and hauling you away from your fans.” She smiled up at him and he grinned.

“You realize that even with you leaving logistics behind, you will still always be the mother of the group. You notice things about Sofi and Luke that the rest of us don’t.”

“They’re family now.”

He smiled at her. “Your inimitable ability to care for others is one of the many things I love about you.” He pressed her closer against him and kissed her, his lips moving against hers softly and confidently. He finally pulled away when Anna’s breath was coming in shuddering gasps. “Okay, so Sofi, Luke, anything else?”

“Yes?” She asked tentatively.

He chuckled. “Go ahead.”

“I think we ought to start a branch of the company that is producing for the theatre.”

“So you’re going to tell us to expand and then leave us?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m shifting my involvement,” she retorted, hurt that he would think she would abandon what they had worked on together for so long.

“I know, I was just teasing.” Another gentle kiss, this time on the soft skin right below her earlobe. “Do you have any particular projects in mind for the theatre, or is this just in general?”

“Partly it’s just in general, but it’s your other passion, and you’ve been brilliant producing for the screen, so why not produce for the theatre as well?”

“And the other part?” His lips had moved down to kiss the base of her throat.

“I’ve started working on a play. It’s a retelling of the Joan of Arc story set in a modern university, and I think you would be fantastic as the angel who guides her.”

He quickly lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Angels in a modern setting?”

“Yes.”

“Literal angels, not metaphorical?”

She nodded. 

“Interesting. And instead of French versus English?”

“Religion versus science.”

He thought briefly. “Are we going to get picketed?”

She shrugged. “Maybe if we take it to America.”

“Can I see the script?”

“It’s not done yet, but the angel is a main character, if you were wondering how many lines you would have.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.”

She looked at him skeptically.

“Okay, it was,” again that laughter, “but only in part,” he insisted. “I am actually interested in seeing what your brilliant mind has come up with this time.” He spun her around and dipped her.

She giggled as he brought her back up into his arms. “I have a few other projects in mind, too. But I’ve already started the play.”

“What else are you plotting?” He chuckled at his unintentional pun.

“I want you and Ben to read C.S. Friedman’s Coldfire Trilogy, at least the first book. I would love to acquire rights to it to adapt it for the screen, but I’m not sure it’s something we have the capacity to produce it because of all the special effects and tech it would require. But it would be brilliant, either as a series of movies, or for a BBC miniseries or HBO. Of course, you and Ben would get in a fist-fight over who gets to play Tarrant.”

“Is he the hero?”

“He’s the anti-hero. You’d have to dye your hair black again. There’s four main characters that are all bloody amazing, and it would be completely brilliant, and that’s why I’m wanting you and Ben to read it, because I’m going to go after the screen rights, I just want to know if I’m doing it as an individual or as part of Londonium Productions.”

He grinned at her enthusiasm. “Send it to our iPads.”

“I will.”

He kissed her again, a long lingering kiss that spoke of old familiarity, warm love, and new adoration. “I love watching you follow your heart,” he whispered against her lips.

“It’s taken me to the happiest place on earth.”

“You went to Disneyland without me?”

She laughed. “It brought me into your arms.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end. When I wrote the first chapter I really intended for it to be a one-shot, but with the encouragement of the readers and admins at thfrustration.tumblr.com, I decided to expand it. The title, “The Center Cannot Hold” is a line from the W.B. Yeats poem “The Second Coming.” I went back to that poem repeatedly for inspiration as I turned my little chapter into a book. Some of the allusions are more obvious than others, but I loved writing this piece of fiction, and the love that it has received has really encouraged me to keep writing. Thanks for changing my life, readers!


	26. Tempest - An update

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place about a year and a half after the epilogue

Tom awoke to the sound of Anna screaming his name from the bathroom. He lurched upward in the comforting darkness, sleep reluctant to let him escape its grasp, and rubbed his face as he got out of bed. “What’s wrong?” he called as he stumbled his way to the en-suite, led by the light leaking out from under the shut door.

“Call 999, full term pregnancy, placental abruption, need an ambulance immediately, alert emergency team receiving possible need for immediate cesarean.”

The words weren’t making sense yet as his brain was slower to abandon sleep than his body and he opened the door to ask her to repeat herself. The blood on the floor brought him to immediate alertness.

“Oh my god.” The garnet-hued puddle on the black and white tile pulsed in front of his eyes like an effect from a bad eighties movie.

“Call 999 now.” Her voice trembled as she crouched on the toilet, one arm wrapped around her belly, the other gripping the counter so hard her knuckles had gone white.

Tom sprang for his phone and punched in the three digits; his call was almost immediately answered. “My wife, she’s nine months pregnant, she’s bleeding heavily, we need an ambulance, please!”

The next several minutes were a strange mix of crystalline clearness and a blur. Every decision tore at him, trying to stay with Anna while also needing to wake up Stephen, dealing with the voice on the other end of the call while listening to the sound of blood steadily dripping into the toilet like spring rain and Anna’s frantic pleas to the baby to hold on. He wanted to hold Anna but he was scared to touch her and so he squatted in front of his panicking wife and stroked her hair, not knowing what else to do. After what felt like hours instead of minutes, he heard the ambulance siren outside and then the blessed sound of Stephen guiding the medics to them. Tom hurriedly pulled on some clothes that Stephen handed him as the paramedics loaded Anna onto a stretcher and followed helplessly behind them as they rushed out of their house and into the waiting ambulance. The wail of the siren was piercing, screaming overhead like the voices in his brain as Anna lay silent, breathing through the oxygen mask obscuring her face. Tom watched her skin go pale and clammy and prayed that she would argue with the medics. She shouldn’t be so still, not with them doing things to her. She should be telling them what to do, or ordering them to leave her alone, but she could barely keep a grip on his hand, much less argue with the young men starting an IV and chattering back and forth over the radio with the physicians who were gearing up to receive his wife and his baby at the end of this terrifying ride.

He felt the vehicle stop, and the doors opened. The lights outside were ghastly in the darkness and he followed after the paramedics helplessly as they rushed her through the emergency room and into an operating bay, the medics and doctors firing words back and forth in what sounded like a foreign language. Anna had always been there to translate for him in these situations, like when Jonny had swallowed three coins on a dare from his older brother and he had no idea what to do now. He tried to follow her into the operating room but a nurse stopped him.

“You can’t be in here.”

He attempted to push past the man in scrubs. “That’s my wife.”

“I know,” the man was gentle yet firm. “We have to do a cesearean section right now because the fetus is in distress and we don’t have time for a spinal block so we need to put her under general anaesthesia. We’re going to need you to wait out here and we’ll have someone come talk to you as soon as we have any information at all.”

He stopped, his hand running through his hair and coming to a rest forgotten on top of his head as he stared through the windows, unable to see Anna as she was obscured by the crowd of doctors and nurses around her.  He had never felt more helpless or out of place. All of their children had been delivered at home in the peace and quiet of their bedroom. She had never needed more than him and the midwife and they’d all been perfectly healthy. But this here, with the noise and bustle was completely opposite to his experience or desire. This wasn’t a place of health. This was a place of sickness and he couldn’t help his wife as she lay bleeding a few feet away.

He called the midwife, the same midwife who had delivered all of their other children and had planned on delivering this one any day now, needing someone who could manage this birth as successfully as she had managed the other ones. Even in the middle of the night the woman answered the phone with a cheerful greeting and managed to quickly decipher his panicked words about abrupted placenta and fetal distress and hospital. She promised to be right there and rang off.

He slumped down in the vinyl chair, staring at the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead as he waited for news about what was going on with his wife and his child. He finally called Ben, needing someone to talk to as he waited, and Ben promised he would be right over.

The midwife got there first and promised to find out what was going on with Anna and the baby and bustled off. Ben got there not much later and Tom broke down crying as Ben hugged him. Ben pulled Tom into an empty examining room and kept holding Tom as he let all of his worries about losing the baby or losing Anna pour from him. “I swear to god, Ben, I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her. I don’t know how I’ll keep going.”

Ben took his face in his hands and spoke words of calm in his deep voice. “You’ll keep going because your children will need you more than ever, but let’s wait until we know more before you start planning your life as a widower, alright, mate?”

“You didn’t see her though. She was so pale and there was so much blood.”

“Listen, she’s got doctors in there fighting for her. Don’t you give up on her out here.”

Ben’s reassurances were cut off by the midwife knocking on the door. “Would you like to meet your baby?”

Tom pulled at the collar of his shirt and stroked his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple bob under his fingers as he swallowed back more tears. “The baby’s alright?”

Greta nodded and patted his cheek with her liver-spotted hand. “She’s fine. They got her out and she’s absolutely perfect. She’s in the nursery if you’d like to come see her.”

“I can’t… I can’t leave Anna.”

Right as he said those words, he was paged over the address system. “Will Mr. Hiddleston please report to the admissions desk in A&E, please. Mr. Hiddleston to the admissions desk in A&E.”

He sprinted through the waiting room, arriving at the desk almost the instant the message stopped.

“I’m Mr. Hiddleston.”

A doctor grabbed his elbow. “We can’t get your wife to stop bleeding. We’ve been giving her transfusions but I recommend that we do a hysterectomy to stop the hemorrhaging.”

“Yes. Do what you need to do.” He scrawled his signature across the papers the doctor thrust at him and watched as she ran back to the operating room. The doors swung open and he got a glimpse of Anna’s feet before the doors closed again.

“The hysterectomy will get the bleeding to stop,” Greta said and patted his back reassuringly. “We almost never lose mothers to this anymore, and your baby is perfectly healthy. Focus on that for right now.”  

Tom paced and paced, long legs mirroring the frenetic movement of his thoughts as he kept watching the doors leading to the operating room, waiting for someone to come tell him something about his wife. His worried clock watching let it know that it had been exactly sixty-seven minutes when a doctor came out of the room. Tom met her halfway across the floor. “How is she?”

“The bleeding’s stopped. We had to remove the uterus, but it looks like she’s going to recover.”

“She’s going to recover,” Tom repeated. “She’s going to recover.”

The doctor patted Tom’s shoulder. “That’s my prognosis at this point. We’re going to want to keep her in the hospital for several days to monitor her, but barring complications, she should have a full recovery.”

“Thank you.” The words were completely inadequate to express the relief coursing through his veins but he didn’t know of words in this or any other language that came close to capturing the smallest iota of the gratitude he felt.

“And congratulations on your baby.”

“Thank you.” He hugged her and held her close as his tears anointed her head. “Thank you for both of them.”

“Anna will be moving to post-op for a bit, and then I’m having her moved to the ICU in the Women and Children’s wing. That way she’ll be able to have her baby with her and the nurses won’t have to chase her down as she makes a mad dash for the nursery.”

Tom managed to get out a rusty sounding laugh. “It sounds like you know my wife.”

“I was a resident with her. I’m glad it’s not my job to keep her in a bed for the next week.”

Tom rubbed his face repeatedly with his hand as the doctor left, repeating to himself the words that she would recover. Ben slung an arm around his shoulders and Tom sighed in relief. “She’s going to recover.” He repeated the words to his friend and Ben nodded.

“Come on,” Greta said. “Let’s go introduce you to your daughter and that way both of you can be in the room when they wheel Anna in.”

The two men followed after the small woman and she whisked them through the necessary paperwork and security checks to enter the nursery.  Apparently all the nurses knew Greta and she walked right over to the cot with a sleeping swaddled baby in it. Tom peered at the teeny child with awe. As different as the first glimpse of this baby was compared to her siblings, the feeling of love that swamped him was identical.

“Can I hold her?”

Greta laughed gently. “Yes. She’s yours. Why don’t you hold her and I’ll wheel this cot to the new mum’s room, and we’ll give you some time alone with your new daughter.”

Greta got things situated here in the hospital as calmly and efficiently as if it were her own house. Tom relaxed in a chair in the dimly lit patient room, watching his daughter sleep as he held her. He couldn’t put her down, both because she was his baby but also because she was his only connection to Anna right now. Ben had left after kissing his new niece on the forehead with promises to call Luke and Stephen and have the biggest muffin basket in the history of the Empire sent to the A&E staff.

And that’s where he was, singing softly to his daughter, when Anna was rolled in. She was barely awake from the anesthesia but she held her arms out to him for her baby. He brought the waking baby to Anna and placed her carefully in his wife’s trembling arms. The nurses worked around them as they hooked up the monitors and he helped Anna unwrap the blanket so she could finally see her baby. Tears streamed down her face as she counted finger toes and brushed her finger over the perfect little cheeks. She peeked under the cap at the fine ginger fuzz and continued to cry.

“Kangaroo,” she murmured and Tom undid the shoulder of her gown so she could rest the little girl against her skin. Finally, with her baby where it should be, she managed to look up at Tom. “So, how bad?”

Tom smoothed her hair back from her face. Her hair looked dark as night against her sheet-white skin. He wondered how much of the blood in her now was someone else’s and made a mental note to go donate blood so they had more on reserve if they needed it. Letting her have his blood would make him feel like he was actually helping instead of just being a bystander. “You’re here and Posey’s here. You’re both fine. That’s the important thing.”

“That bad, huh?”

Tom’s shoulders sagged as he felt the weight of what he had agreed to sink onto him. “They had to do a hysterectomy.”

Anna nodded and took a moment to let the news sink in. Her eyes focused on something Tom couldn’t see. “Well, we knew this was our last one anyway.” A smile flickered into life, bringing a tiny bit of color to her cheeks. “But there’s easier ways of getting out of that vasectomy you kept postponing.”

Tom chuckled in relief and bent to kiss her. “I would gladly have undergone a vasectomy without anesthesia if I could have prevented this.”

Posey started rooting at her mother’s breast and Anna positioned the infant carefully so she could suck. “You’re going to need to call the milk bank,” she murmured. “Tell them what happened. I’m going to have to pump and dump for the first few days at least I would imagine, and this little girl’s not going to wait that long.”

“She’s okay to nurse now, though?”

Anna nodded, fixated on her baby again. “She’s just getting a few drops of colostrum at the most. She’ll be fine and I need to be her mum for a few minutes.”

Tom watched Anna nursing little Posey, the sucking sounds a welcome addition to the quiet beep of monitors. “I sure hope her tumultuous entrance doesn’t foreshadow what she’s going to be like the rest of her life.”

Anna shook her head, her finger smoothing over the flushed little cheek. “No, Posey’s going to be the rainbow after the tempest.”

“That’s it!”

Anna looked up at her husband’s sudden exclamation. “That’s what?”

“Miranda. From  _The Tempest._  For the middle name.” They had settled on Posey relatively easily but had spent the last six months trying to find a middle they liked with it.

She looked back at the little girl in her arms. “Posey Miranda. I like it. And you finally get your Shakespeare name.”

“You can name the next pet we get whatever Tolkien name you want.”

Anna grinned at him and the fear that had been his constant companion since he had seen the pomegranate puddle on the bathroom floor disappeared in the warmth of her expression. “No. I’m going to get a new motorcycle. Name it Rohan. I’ve always wanted to be one of the Rohirrim.”

“Not this day.”

Anna reached a hand out to Tom and pressed his hand against her cheek. “No. Not this day and not this week. I’m so exhausted.”

“You sleep then, darling.” He took Posey back and helped Anna straighten her blankets and pillows. Both of the girls fell asleep almost instantly. And he sat with his daughter in one arm, and the other one on his wife, and found some sleep of his own, now that his world had moved from darkness back into the light.


	27. The Swing

After a long search through all three storeys of the house, Tom finally found Anna out in the garden sitting on the swing that hung from the big oak tree. Her head was leaning against the chain and her eyes were closed as her feet on the ground kept her in gentle motion. “Here you are.”

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “The kidlets all asleep?”

“Wills is still reading, but he’s in bed. Everyone else is asleep.”

He stepped behind his wife and gently pushed her on the swing, smiling as her hair started to flow around her in the lilac light of dusk. Anna looked up at the back of the house and saw the soft glow of Wills’ bedside lamp through his window. “He asked me today if you would be mad at him if he didn’t become an actor.”

“Why would he think that?” He pushed her a little harder and she pumped her feet, going higher into the air.

“I think he got the idea last week when we went to that renaissance faire. He seemed to think that children are supposed to grow up and do what their parents do.”

“And he’s been worried about it for a week?”

She tilted her head backwards, looking at him upside down as she soared into the air. “He doesn’t want to disappoint his dad.”

“He could never disappoint me.” A warm rush of happiness flooded over her. Tom was an amazing father, and watching how much he loved his children just made her love him even more. “Did he say what he wants to be when he grows up?”

“Queen Elizabeth.”

His laughter brought a smile to her face, even after fourteen years together. “She did have the most impressive costumes.”

“I think it was more about the thought of putting his siblings in the stocks and throwing rotten fruit at them.” She waved at him to stop pushing and she dropped her legs, slowing her flight through the evening sky.

His laughter made the growing dark cozy and comforting, rather than a source of worry and dread. “Well he is seven. That’s a good ambition for this age.”

She shook her head. “How is he seven? They keep growing up.”

“I remember you giving birth to him like it was yesterday.”

Anna got lost in her own memories of that day and there was silence for a while as she thought about the births of all of her children. “Posey hasn’t nursed in a week,” she finally said.

Tom came around in front of her and squatted down in front of her. “Is that why you’ve been sad the last few days?”

She nodded. “I knew it was coming, and she’s over a year old, so it’s not a big surprise, but she’s my last. Breastfeeding was the one thing I always knew I was doing right when it came to my kids. And now that’s over and it’s gonna get so much more complicated.”

“Yep. Hormones and dating and –”

She lightly pushed his shoulder. “You’re not helping.”

He stood and tugged his shirt up to expose his stomach and she rested her forehead against it. He’d gotten used to this over the years; she said it helped her relax. “We’ve got a few years before it gets really scary. Right now they still think we’re pretty cool.” He smoothed his hands over her long hair, settling it back into place from the tossing the wind had given it.

“I think you’re pretty cool too, Mr. Hiddleston,” she said into his navel.

“Even with my receding hairline?”

“It goes with my grey streak.”

He kissed the part in her hair where the streak started, framing her face when she wore it down, and twisting like a beam of moonlight through her hair when she wore it up.  “So, I um, have a question for you, darling.”

She looked up at him and could see the sparkle in his eyes, even in the lowering night. “What’s that, my love?”

“Does this mean your breasts are all mine again?”

Anna started laughing at his hopeful expression, his playful grin making him look as young as the night they had first met. He laughed too, his tongue caught in his teeth. Anna held her hand out to him. “Come on, Captain Hook, take me to Neverland.”

He helped her from the swing and they walked hand in hand back towards their quiet house. “I still have that photo in my wallet.”

There was no way she would fit back in that tiny dress ever again. She thought she still had the heels somewhere though, in a box in the back of the wardrobe somewhere. “Most days I feel more like Wendy with the Lost Boys rather than Tink, any more.”

“Do you need to restock your supply of happy thoughts?” He shut and locked the French doors behind them and turned off the outdoor lights. Anna nodded and nuzzled her face against Tom’s warm throat. The feel and the scent of him always made her feel better. “What do you say to the idea of taking a holiday together, just me and you, no kids?”

Anna looked up at him to see if he were teasing. He wasn’t. “I can’t remember the last time we did a holiday with just the two of us.”

“Probably Ibiza when you were pregnant with Wills.”

Her hopes started to rise like the bread she had baked that day. “No publicity tour or project to work around?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. Just you and me.”

Anna kissed him firmly and then dashed up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Tom called after her.

She stopped on the landing. He could just see her bare feet from where he stood. “To pack before your phone rings and someone talks you into another play,” she called back down. Her feet disappeared as she ran down the hall towards their bedroom.

Tom took his phone out, shoved it down the back of the sofa, and ran up the stairs after her.


	28. The Morning Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to a question I got from a reader about wanting to see a day in the life of Tom and Anna and their brood.

Anna yelled up the stairs, “William, you have two minutes before we’re leaving without you!”

Tom patted her rear as he passed her in the hall. “I’ve got Posey dressed and the diaper bag packed. The pram is in the boot.” 

She was about to ask about Lucy when she saw her shoes in Tom’s hand. “I think she’s still eating breakfast.”

Tom pivoted and turned through the doorway that led to the kitchen. “Lucy my girl! You’ve got yoghurt in your eyebrows.”

Anna shook her head and headed towards the garden. Jonny would be out there getting dirty already. She was surprised to find him neatly seated on the back porch step. “You ready to go, Jonny?”

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. You’re six. I can’t very well leave you at home by yourself."

"I’ll be good."

"I’m sure you would be, but Mummy and Daddy could get arrested and go to prison if we left you home alone."

"I won’t open the door to nobody."

She patted him on the top of his head. “I’m sure you wouldn’t, but you are coming with the rest of us.”

"But who is going to feed Francisco?"

Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who is Francisco?”

"The frog that lives under the bush with the big stripey leaves."

She looked at the plants where he was pointing. “There’s a frog that lives under the hosta? He’ll feed himself. Wait, have you been feeding Francisco?”

"I’ve been catching bugs and feeding them to him. I don’t want him to starve, Mum."

"He’ll be fine. Go wash your hands and wait by the front door."

She followed the reluctant Jonny back into the house. “Wills?” she yelled up the staircase.

"I’m eating!" was the mumbled response from the kitchen.

Anna took a deep breath and counted. That was a confirmation that all four were downstairs. Posey went toddling by with her bunny’s ear clutched in one hand. She scooped up the little girl and sat her on her hip. “You ready for today, Posey girl?”

Posey nodded, her little pig tails bobbing energetically. “And you have your travel buddy, I see.” 

"Olivia’s my buddy."

Anna kissed the little girl’s cheek. “And you’re my buddy.” She took a deep breath and counted to five. “Alright,” she called out, “everyone to the front door.”

She stole one last minute of quiet, rocking Posey on her hip and singing to her, before joining the chaos she could hear at the front of the house. She surveyed her other three children and her husband helping Lucy with her jacket. “Right. You all look good. Let’s do this.”

Wills and Jonny started snickering and Tom looked up as Lucy’s jacket finally zipped and grinned. “Forgetting something, love?”

Anna racked her brain. She could see all of her kids and Tom had the diaper bag slung over his shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

Tom’s eyes trailed down her body with a smile. Anna looked down and realized she was still in her pyjamas and robe. “Damnit.” She shoved Posey into Tom’s arms while Wills and Jonny started shouting that she had to put money in the swear jar. She ran up the stairs. “Give me five minutes!”

Tom ushered the kids out to the minivan. By the time he got all four of them buckled into their seats and the DVD player loaded, Anna would be back out and they could get underway. He loaded  _The Jungle Book_  into the player. After this they would watch  _Peter Pan._


End file.
